


Secret of My Heart

by tejaswrites



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Cullen Rutherford Smut, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Modern Thedas, NSFW, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2020-07-30 18:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 44
Words: 214,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tejaswrites/pseuds/tejaswrites
Summary: Cullen Rutherford has the opportunity to start fresh as the commander of the fledging Inquisition.Ariana Trevelyan, Bann of Southwatch in the Free Marches, finally located her sister—a mage who’d been taken by templars more than fifteen years prior—with that same Inquisition.When they meet at Haven, the intensity of their attraction threatens to unravel everything they’ve worked toward their entire lives. They both keep their secrets. From their friends, from the Inquisition, and from each other.





	1. Chapter 1

The peacefulness of the valley unnerved him.

Summer birds sang from the leafy, green trees and the lake beyond the outer gate sparkled prettily in the midday sun. The barest hint of a breeze cooled his sweat-soaked skin as the sun bore down upon him.

The soldier opposite him was tapping his foot against the ground, patting his shirt pocket every so often to reassure himself the lyrium was still there. Cullen recognized the strained look on the man’s face, the impatient counting down of guard duty until the man could finally take his next hit.

Cullen readjusted his grip on the automatic weapon in his hands, taking care to wipe the sweat from each of his palms. He rubbed his forearms against the rough fabric of his fatigues, finding what small amount of relief he could at the itching that seemed to burn in his veins.

His body ached for want of lyrium. For need. He was craving it, begging for the blissful release he would find in the needle.

He pressed his eyes closed, the dull throb in his head that of the withdrawal starting to make itself known.

With a cursory glance around to confirm there was no threat, he slid a hand up into his shirt pocket and pulled out an herbal chew. If he could make it on another half an hour, he could get to the stronger tea the doctor had prepared for him.

The gate creaked open. Cullen stole a glance back at the newcomer as he worked on the chew, the medicinal herbs doing little to stop the progress of the oncoming headache.

“Commander.” Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast stepped through the gate, nodding a greeting to the twitchy soldier next to him. “Bann Trevelyan should arrive at any moment.”

The sound of rocks crunching under tires sounded as a sleek, black sedan came into view. The vehicle crawled along the dirt road toward Haven, the village that had become the base of their operations in the chaos following the explosion. Far enough from the ruins of the temple to be safe, but near enough to keep an eye on the jagged green rift in the sky. It hovered over them, like some cruel overlord, bathing the valley in its unnatural, glowing green.

Voices chirped in his ear piece as the vehicle rolled to a stop at the forward gate. The soldiers confirmed that it was indeed the noble they’d been expecting and allowed it to continue forward to the vehicle bay.

Cassandra headed down the stairs in front of them to meet their guest at the same time the inner gate swung open again, revealing the soldiers scheduled to relieve Cullen of his guard duty.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he walked toward the chantry at a steady pace. In the preceding days after the explosion, the religious building had become their center of operations, housing their military operations, infirmary, offices, and even lodging. The statue of Andraste had been relegated to a side wing, with a few pews moved in front of it to serve as the village’s chapel. The rest had been repurposed for more urgent needs.

Once inside, he headed down the stairs to what had once been a dungeon. Now it was their central operations, armory, and jail. Although they’d only used the jail cell once, for the mage with the unnatural green mark on her hand.

Evelyn Trevelyan. Mage of the Ostwick Circle. Daughter of a bann in the Free Marches. Devout Andrastian. He tried to remember what else their Director of Intelligence, Leliana, had included in the report, but those were the high points.

Cullen followed the routine he’d adopted over the preceding days. He returned the weapon to the armory, flipped the on switch on the electric kettle, and splashed his face with water. When the water was boiled, he’d prepare his herbal tea and sit down to read through whatever reports had come in during his guard shift.

With more recruits arriving each day, Cullen hoped he’d soon have enough people to keep him off guard duty. It wasn’t that he disliked it, but it had been necessary after so many had been lost in the explosion and ensuing chaos.

He was about halfway through his tea and almost completely through the reports when Cassandra appeared in the command center. “Commander, we’re convening in the war room.”

Cullen pushed himself up from the chair, downing the second half of his tea in the hopes it would help stave off the pounding in his head long enough.

They climbed the stairs, heading to the door at the back of the church. It was cracked open and Cullen could hear the cheerful voice of their ambassador, Lady Josephine Montilyet, spilling through. “We are so pleased to welcome you to Haven, Bann Trevelyan! I do hope your travel went well.”

He couldn’t make out the words in the quietly murmured response.

Cullen pushed the door open and stepped into the room. His focus was immediately drawn to the only person in the room he hadn’t seen before. The entire world seemed to slow around him. Out of the side of his eye, he saw Leliana open her mouth to speak. Somehow he knew the words of an introduction were being spoken aloud, but all he could hear was the rushing sound of silence as his heart threatened to beat through his chest as he focused on the woman in front of him.

Exquisite. She was exquisite.

Her eyes were sharp. A piercing grey against her golden brown skin. Cheeks flushed with color in the summer heat of early afternoon. Her hair was blacker than any obsidian, shining like polished stone. But his eyes focused on her lips, red and full like the late autumn apples he used to pick in the orchards of Honnleath. He wondered how they would taste and if they were as soft as they looked.

Cassandra made a quiet, disgusted noise behind him and Cullen realized the entire room was staring at him expectantly. He sucked in a deep breath, having momentarily forgotten to breathe. “Oh… Welcome to Haven. My lady.”

One jet black eyebrow lifted a fraction and a slight smirk appeared on her lush, red lips. Her eyes roamed down his body, lingering on the handgun he wore strapped to his hip, before doubling back to the patches signifying his rank at his shoulder.

“You’re rather young for a general.” The lilting timbre of her Marcher accent washed over him like smooth honey, sending a tantalizing thrill down his spine.

“Commander,” he corrected. The missing “knight” in front still gave him pause, even a year later. “One could say the same for you.”

The ambassador let out a nervous giggle, but one edge of the woman’s mouth ticked up in amusement as she extended her hand toward him. “Ariana Trevelyan. _Enchanté_, Commander.”

Her enunciation of the last word gave him the sense that she was teasing him, but all thoughts fell away as their hands connected. Another sensation zinged through him, setting all his senses alight in milliseconds.

Her eyes widened in shock. Cullen jerked his hand away and straightened his back, trying to regain control of his senses. She looked as stunned as he felt.

_What in Thedas had just happened_?

The two held each other’s gaze for several long beats of the heart until he heard the door behind him creak open and the woman shifted her gaze. Cullen knew the Herald was behind him, he could feel her magic pulsing in the in between.

He stepped back toward the wall as Bann Trevelyan dropped into a deep curtsey, the kind Cullen understood was only reserved for royalty.

“Eve.” He caught the briefest falter in the bann’s lilt as she stared at the ground near the Herald’s feet.

“Ari…" Trevelyan kneeled down in front of her and lifted her chin. “You don't need to do that. It’s only me.”

The bann grasped her sister’s hand. “After all these years I scare believed it.”

The two women rose and gave each other an awkward hug. Trevelyan looked at the others in the room. “Please excuse us. I’d like to… visit with my sister. We’ll be in my quarters.”

Before exiting the room, the bann turned to glance over her shoulder at Cullen. All the playfulness from earlier was gone, replaced with a look of concern and a deep furrow between her eyebrows.

Cullen frowned after her. One of the map markers landed squarely on his chest. He jerked his head up in surprise. “What on—”

“What were you thinking!” Josephine glared at him. “Were you trying to provoke her? We need this recognition—”

“Come now, Josie,” Leliana interrupted, her eyes twinkling as she cast a glance in his direction. “It wasn’t that bad. In fact, I believe the bann found our commander charming.”

“Charming? Charming!” Josephine’s voice was edging upwards. “Impressive. Compelling. Convincing. All words I would have liked to hear, but instead I get charming? The Inquisition needs to be taken seriously, not treated as if we are some quaint little club who enjoys quilting for sport.”

Cassandra let out a snort as she attempted to keep the laughter in.

Cullen could feel the flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. Now that the woman was no longer in the room, he could think again. He didn’t know what she’d done to him to make all rational thought flee his mind. She had no magic whatsoever, that much he could tell, but he’d been captivated by her all the same.

“You know the bann. She’s seen far worse than the likes of Cullen Rutherford. I’m sure she won’t hold it against us.”

“Of course, you’re right,” Josephine agreed tersely. “Though I had hoped that would have gone better.”

“I’m right here,” he grumbled at the two of them. He popped another herbal chew into his mouth to buy himself more time for the headache that had risen to a dull thrum.

“Well, now that we have been recognized by one of the nobility—” Josephine picked up her tablet and tapped a few times—“We should be receiving more guests any day now. I’ll schedule a few social events. Commander, how fares the building on the guest lodging?”

“Almost complete. We’ll need to start expanding the barracks soon.” He rubbed his fingers in circles at his temple.

Josephine continued, “We’ve received a message from the Hinterlands of a revered mother who wishes to meet with the Herald. The arrival of her noble sister has quickly given us some credibility within the Chantry. The Herald should depart at once to see if this Mother Giselle can provide further support before we approach Val Royeaux."

“On the topic of Bann Trevelyan…" Leliana ventured, "she needs to feel welcome with us. If we can accomplish that, we will have one of the greatest allies we could hope for right now. The bann can provide resources and legitimacy we would not have otherwise.”

“Like what?” Cullen pressed. The intricacies and political machinations of the nobility was a topic for which he had little patience. The politics of the Kirkwall nobility had been enough to last him a lifetime.

“Bann Trevelyan is one of the most powerful banns of the Free Marches. House Trevelyan has strong connections to the Chantry,” Josephine told him, “Her name alone will open doors across Thedas.”

“Not to mention her not insignificant wealth and beauty.” Leliana added, giving Cullen a pointed look at the last word.

“She’s younger than I was expecting,” Cullen protested. By the way Leliana had already latched on to his obvious attraction to her, he knew he’d hear about it for the foreseeable future.

“Maybe now you’ll read my reports,” the spymaster teased.

“I read them!”

Leliana lifted her eyebrows before addressing the entire group. “I am going to meet with the bann tomorrow to ask for her support. Formally. I ask that you all do your best to make her feel as though she belongs here.”

***

Ariana settled into a chair, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. She was already tired of being in Ferelden. The high altitude of the mountains required a fire to keep the small, stone room warm, despite the fact it was high summer. It had forced her into a worse mood than she already found herself in from the long days of travel it had taken to reach this far outpost in the middle of the Frostbacks.

She hadn’t been impressed thus far with this fledgling movement. The so-called Inquisition. The fact that they were rebelling against the bloody Chantry, the worldwide religious organization that had been the bane of her existence, was a point in their favor, but she still wasn’t sure what they were trying to achieve.

The conversation the previous night with her sister was far more awkward and painful than Ariana had imagined it could be. Nor did it yield much in the way of information. Her sister was guarded with walls so built so high over the previous decade and a half that Ariana feared she would never get through. Evelyn had been happy to see her, but she was still hesitant to trust.

No surprise given the rumors of what took place in the Circles.

She hadn’t expected a visitor when a knock sounded. Ariana crossed the room and pulled open the heavy door to find the red-headed Orlesian woman standing in front of her. “Leliana, what a surprise.”

The woman’s eyes were sharp as they assessed her. “Good afternoon, Bann Trevelyan. Do you have a moment?”

Ariana stood back and opened the door wide to allow the woman to enter. “Please, come in.” Ariana motioned for her to have a seat in the only chair and sat herself on the edge of the bed.

“You made it to Haven rather quickly.”

“I’ve been looking for my sister for fifteen years. I came as quickly as I could.”

“Did you know she was here even before you received our message?” Leliana’s face gave nothing away.

“How would I have known without it?”

Leliana gave her a meaningful look. “I wondered whether or not your network notified you she was attending the Conclave.”

Ariana returned the look evenly. It wasn’t possible that this woman knew Ariana’s involvement, was it? She had to be fishing.

At her silence, Leliana continued, “If you are attempting to ascertain whether or not I am aware of your activities in the Free Marches, then let me be clear. I am.”

Ariana forced a look of confusion onto her face despite the rapid pounding in her chest. “And what activities might those have been?”

Leliana gave her a gentle smile. One that was both genuine and encouraging. “Your assistance to the apostate mages saved many lives.”

“Who are you?” Ariana asked flatly. This woman definitely knew, but Ariana didn’t understand how that could be possible. Very few people were aware of her involvement with the mage underground. And most of them were dead.

“Me?” Leliana shrugged, “Left Hand of the Divine. Director of Intelligence for the Inquisition. It was not easy information to come by, I assure you. And before you ask, no, I have not shared that information to anyone else. However, your experience and discretion would be invaluable to us.”

“Why would I want to help this little movement?”

Leliana gave her another smile. “Divine Justinia intended to reform the Chantry and its treatment of mages. I believe that is why she was murdered, as was Grand Cleric Elthina before her. The Inquisition was intended to stop the fighting. Our purpose has… shifted slightly, but the Divine’s original intent still stands.”

Ariana looked toward the small fire crackling as she considered the woman’s words. “And what would you have me do?”

“Be an agent of the Inquisition. Your ability to move at the highest levels will certainly open doors that otherwise might prove difficult. No one will question a powerful noble, the Herald of Andraste’s sister no less.”

“What? Herald of Andraste?”

“That’s what the people call your sister.”

“They believe she’s a prophet? And you let them?”

Leliana shrugged. “People will believe what they want to believe. It hasn’t hurt.”

“You. It hasn’t hurt you. But what about her?”

“Well, she’s involved. That mark on her hand couldn’t have escaped your notice. But I am offering you a choice.”

Ariana let out a long sigh as she considered what the spymaster had offered her. “Who will know?”

“For now, only us. There may become a time that it is prudent the other advisors, and possibly even your sister, are made aware.”

“I will consider it.”

“That’s all I ask.” Leliana stood and made a move toward the exit. “And Bann Trevelyan, you should know that your assistance could very much change the course of this ‘little movement’.”

For several minutes after the spymaster left, Ariana thought back to the years before the Mage-Templar War. Back to when the Starkhaven Circle burned to the ground and the mages were transferred elsewhere in the Free Marches. Most of them ended up in the Gallows of Kirkwall. She’d been searching for her sister when she came across an apostate and former member of the paramilitary force known as the Grey Wardens working in Kirkwall. He, unfortunately, had never seen nor heard of her sister, but offered to keep an ear to the ground in exchange for her assistance.

So she did. Her money and resources helping mages escape from the Gallows. There had been whispers of the abhorrent things Templars had done to mages there as they attempted to beat them into submission and Ariana was more than willing to provide whatever support she could to free mages from that tyranny.

It wasn’t only the Gallows, but all of the Circles. Ansburg. Hasmal. Markham. And Ostwick. The Circle next door where her sister had been all along.

Her stomach roiled as she thought of the atrocities they’d heard from mages that escaped. She’d felt so helpless in those days as she sat safely in her gilded cage at Southwatch while her friends and compatriots put their lives on the line to move mages safely through the Free Marches.

At least, they had until the Templars, led by the knight-captain in Kirkwall, shut them down. It was only then that Anders took matters into his own hands, blowing up the Kirkwall cathedral, and prompting all void to break loose. Those were frightening days as Ariana lived in fear of the Templars getting wind of her involvement.

_Wait a minute_.

She sat up straight, wracking her brain for the piece of information that seemed to be there, hovering out of reach…

“How is that possible?” The words, spoken aloud, surprised her in the quiet room.

Rutherford was a Fereldan name. It had always stood out in the Free Marches, but she remembered hearing that the knight-captain had been transferred to Kirkwall from Ferelden’s Circle after an “incident.” In her youthful naivety, she thought it prudent that she not recognize the knight-captain on sight. At least that way she wouldn’t act suspicious if she ever found herself in his presence. The past four years had given her the gift of hindsight, showing her the recklessness of her ignorance in those days.

The man she’d met the previous day definitely carried himself like a templar, but he’d introduced himself as Commander. Not Knight-Commander.

Could he possibly be the same Cullen Rutherford from Kirkwall?

She’d always imagined the knight-commander to be… different. A cruel old man with evil in his eyes. In all the nights she spent trying not to think of him, the man she’d met yesterday had never once even crossed her mind.

He was overwhelmingly beautiful. So much so that he’d stolen the air right out of her lungs. Stunned as she tried to catch her breath, tried to remember who she was and what she was doing here. He had the most singular eyes. Like molten gold. And she had stepped in and allowed herself to be pulled under, not caring or wanting to find her way back out.

She didn’t want it to be true. Didn’t want him to be that nightmare made flesh. But deep within her she knew it was.

Ariana knew what she had to do.

She strode out into the chantry, toward the room at the back of the building. She heard his muffled voice through the doorway, along with the voices of several others.

Deciding not to interrupt, she hovered nearby until the door creaked open and the man she’d been waiting for stepped through. He stumbled as he caught sight of her, his golden eyes widening in surprise.

“A word, Commander?”

Leliana arched an eyebrow as she looked between the two of them, but kept walking. The other two women followed the spymaster, only Josephine pausing to cast a look back in concern.

“I have ten minutes,” he told her as he gestured her back toward the room. He waited for her to enter the room first, then pulled the door shut behind them.

An awkward silence descended on the room as he ran a hand through his hair, the golden curls popping out from beneath his tanned fingers. She wondered how his hands would feel tangled in her hair.

He looked at her expectantly. “How can I be of service, Lady Trevelyan?”

“Bann Trevelyan," she snapped. "I am a bann of the Free Marches. Do not reduce me to a mere noble.”

His winced at her vehemence. “I apologize, Bann, I meant nothing by it. I… I forgot my place for a moment. It shall not happen again.”

She walked to the large table in the middle of the room, eyes raking over the map laid out across it. She’d noticed it the previous day. A full map of Thedas. Interesting for such a small movement to already be focusing so large.

The commander was still standing behind her and she could hear him shifting, his clothes rustling as he moved his weight from one leg to the other. He didn’t make a move toward her, but Ariana was acutely aware of his presence all the same.

She picked up one of the metallic map markers shaped like a fist. She turned it over in her hand a few times before placing it deliberately on the map, right on top of Kirkwall.

“I hadn’t expected to find Knight-Captain Cullen of Kirkwall in this backwater Fereldan village.”

He stiffened behind her. “You know who I am?”

Ariana turned, leaning back against the table as she crossed her arms across her chest. “How could I not? You had quite the reputation in the Marches.”

“I did?” His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Oh yes. A great many atrocities happened under your watch.”

“Atrocities? What are you—"

“Your templars were not subtle. You allowed countless mages to made tranquil, to be raped, to be murdered—”

His eyes flashed at her accusations and his hands tightened into fists. He took a deep breath in before he looked into her eyes. The gold swirled with intensity. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, Commander.” She gave him a patronizing look. “Have you ever spoken to a mage? I have. And I believed them when they told me about what they’d lived through.” She couldn’t keep the disgust from her voice. She could still hear the cries of the mages at night as they relived their experiences in the Fade, fighting the demons that sought to take advantage of their condition.

“Why would mages tell you?” He stepped toward her. Ariana could almost see his mind working as he tried to put together the pieces of what she was telling him.

“They wanted to die after the hell your Order put them through!” She raised her voice, pushing herself off the table and enunciating each word to drive the point home.

He opened his mouth to argue, but she lifted her hand, holding up a finger to silence him. “Before you continue that thought, I am sure it has not escaped your notice that my sister is a mage who spent the majority of her life in one of your Circles,” she spat.

They were face-to-face, staring at each other as the seconds ticked by, waiting to see who would blink first. Ariana was so close to him. She could see the dark circles under his eyes and the exhaustion that was etched across his face. The flecks of gold in his eyes shimmered in the dim lighting of the room. She’d almost forgotten what they were talking about when his eyes widened in realization.

“The mage underground.”

“Well done.” She closed her eyes to give herself a brief respite from his intense gaze, but instead she found herself wrapped up in the scent of him. There was something that hinted at home, almost as though he smelled of summer itself. Like flowers and sunshine. Rain and rebirth.

Her eyes popped back up before she could follow that trail of thought too far. The commander had an odd look on his face. He took a step away from her, before lifting his hands to rub circles at his temple. “Bann, will you please tell me what it is that you hoped to… get out of this conversation.”

She crossed her arms again. “Leliana has asked me to join the Inquisition, but I can’t do that when one of its leaders hates mages.”

He sighed, rolling his head around his neck before answering her. “I don’t hate mages.”

“That’s not what I heard.” Ariana took a step toward him. She wouldn’t say she was getting in his face, exactly, but she was certainly making her presence known. She set her jaw as she stared into his eyes, watching the way they flashed in annoyance. She couldn’t believe how expressive his eyes were.

“As you’ve made clear,” he leaned toward her. “Do I fear them? Yes, I admit that freely. But the aftermath of the mage rebellion—”

“You mean templar aggression?” Ariana scoffed.

The look he gave her was not gentle, but it set something aflutter inside of her.

“Mage rebellion,” he continued. “The aftermath of that made evident the… error of my ways. I am no longer a Templar. I could no longer follow the direction the Order has taken.”

They glared at each other. At least, that’s what it started out as. But Ariana’s breath caught in her chest as the glares turned into gazes. She was unable to form an entirely coherent thought as competing emotions roiled inside of her. Distrust and anger were still there, somewhere, but something new was pushing at the fringes. Something dangerous and powerful.

He began to lift his fingers toward her face, slowly, as though he didn't believe she was real. The movement was enough to snap her out of whatever trance she’d found herself in. Ariana forced herself to take a step back as the commander blinked at her, his hand dropping to scratch absentmindedly at his forearm.

His admission had taken her aback as she had not been expecting for him to say he’d left the Order.

But that wasn’t that had shocked her so thoroughly. It was the way everything else seemed to fall away when she was with him. That he all but consumed her by sharing the same space with her.

Ariana didn’t know what to think.

***

It was not outside the realm of possibility the Maker might smite him for the unholy thoughts that were running through his head at that moment. He’d thought Ariana Trevelyan was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on and now he knew that the would never meet anyone else so captivating.

She was fury personified, her jet black hair loose and wild around her face, her pale grey eyes piercing through what little armor he had left. The anger gave her cheeks that same flush he’d noticed yesterday and he knew without a doubt that the heart hammering so forcefully as though it were attempting to jump out of his chest straight into her hands.

After the long silence, she finally spoke, “Thank you for your honesty, Commander.”

He let out a long sigh, dropping his eyes to the map on the table she brushed past to the door behind him. Cullen willed himself to take deep breaths to calm himself before following. The scent of fresh plums and honey hovered in the air where she’d been. Maker, this woman had been in Haven less than a full day and she was already driving him mad.

It had to be the lack of lyrium. It had to be his brain attempting to replace the lyrium with something, anything that he might desire, and Maker help him… he desired Ariana Trevelyan more than he’d ever wanted anyone, _anything_ in a long time.

Not since he’d wanted to be a templar.

He needed to report to the command room, but he could sense the lyrium-fueled migraine forming at the back of his head again. He was in no condition to be dictating the movement of the troops today.

After finding someone to cover his duties, Cullen headed out into the bright light of the late morning toward his tent. It was a small space, holding little more than his sleeping bag and some personal effects. The rest he kept in the barracks with those of the other soldiers, but Cullen still found it difficult to sleep in the confined space of the building.

He refilled his pocket with herbal chews as he contemplated what to do next.

Doctor Adan wasn’t the best healer he’d encountered, but the man was working entirely without magic. That made his healing abilities all the more impressive. The doctor had recommended and provided several herbal remedies for the headache, various teas, chews, and capsules, but Cullen knew that the lyrium withdrawals were well on their way to being unmanageable with herbs alone.

Truth be told, he was avoiding the other doctor. The elven mage who’d arrived after the Breach ripped its hideous green gash in the sky. Cullen still didn’t entirely trust the man, although he had no real reason not to. Except that there was something… off about him. The man was elven, as evidenced by the pointed ears that popped out from his bald head, but his face was naked. He was not from an alienage, nor was he Dalish. Cullen didn’t know what to make of him and, because of that, he preferred to avoid the man altogether.

But the herbs were reaching their limit. He didn’t want to resort to magic, but he may have no other choice if he hoped to rid himself of the addiction.

Today was not the day for that, however. Instead, he returned to the chantry. His feet knew well the path to the makeshift chapel. Although he was no longer a templar, prayer still gave solace to his weary soul. The solitude of this little forgotten corner was his peace amidst the uncertainty of the world around him.

The previous fortnight had been chaos. He took time to focus on what he had been through, what they had all been through. All of the hopes and dreams that the Inquisition had put into the Conclave. The explosion that shredded those dreams. The aftermath of demons pouring through the rifts. And most of all, he thought of that day that had rocked his world to the very core.

The dead and injured littered the battlefield. Melee was never clean. He’d not been able to reach inside the charred ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, blocked by a large rift in the Veil out front.

Time crawled as they defeated demon after demon. Every time they thought they finally had a break, more would appear and they’d begin all over again. After each wave of demons, he prayed for the Maker, for Andraste, to hear the desperate pleas of His children and deliver them from the darkness that was overtaking the world.

When the arc of green light shot into the rift, lyrium coursed through his veins, begging to be released. He had to forcefully prevent himself from purging the area of the magic ripping through the air, twisting the Veil around him.

He didn’t have time to see where it was coming from as yet another demon bore down on him. The demon swiped at him, the creature's large claw heading straight for Cullen’s head.

But the hit never came.

Instead, a sparkling amethyst barrier surrounded him. The demon disintegrated before his eyes as lightning connected with it, arcing off to strike several other demons nearby, taking them out one by one.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as the barrier disappeared. A fresh barrage of purple energy shot across the battlefield to where more demons poured out of the rift. The fragments resembled stars as they arced through the air, twinkling in the late afternoon sun.

It was extraordinary. Beautiful, even. But even in his awe, Cullen felt a chill run through him.

He looked behind him and found a small woman with snow white hair. Battle staff in hand, arms open wide, the woman had a look of intense concentration on her face. She was flanked by the Seeker and the elven man, Doctor Solas, on each side. After spending the past decade with mages of varying abilities, he knew that it took a mage of considerable magic and skill to achieve what she had done.

With the last of the demons dispatched, he watched the mage lift her left hand, the mark embedded in it flashing angrily at the sky. With a quick flick of her wrist, she poured magic into the rift. Even more incredibly, the rift absorbed the energy and then swallowed itself whole.

The silence that enveloped them was deafening after the pandemonium of the preceding days.

When the woman turned her face to look at him, an involuntary shudder overtook Cullen’s body at what he saw there. Her fierce eyes were a perfect match to the unnatural color of the jagged rip in the sky.

The sound of shoes tapping across the stone floor roused him from his meditations. He could tell without even looking that it was the bann making her way across the chantry. Out of the side of her eye, he saw her pause as she caught sight of him.

His headache had only increased, despite his attempts to temper it. The best place for him to ride out this pain would be in his tent, well away from the woman who was already driving him to distraction.

Before he could push himself off his knees, a quiet voice behind him began, “Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide.”

Cullen stiffened at the sound of the Herald’s voice. He’d avoided her as much as possible since they’d pulled her out of the wreckage of the temple and redoubled his efforts once he saw of what she was truly capable.

He was not proud of it, but she was a mage and he feared her. A fact that he’d tried to keep to himself. She’d never given him a reason, but he struggled to keep his instinct to smite her in check. A battle that was even harder distracted as he was by the lyrium withdrawals.

He leapt to his feet, surprising her. “Oh—Oh! Commander, good afternoon. Please, don’t leave on my account.”

“It is of no consequence, Herald. I was here much longer than intended and must get to my reports. Good afternoon.”

***

Her sister was due to depart for the Hinterlands in the morning, so invited her to an early dinner. Aside from the awkward conversation they’d had the day of her arrival, Ariana had seen little of the sister she’d sought for more than a decade.

Evelyn had cabin near the main gate. The space was quiet and far removed from others. Ariana recognized that she no longer knew the woman her sister was, but she thought the space suited her. Especially since someone had taken care to decorate and make the single room feel comfortable.

Her sister sat in the chair closest the fireplace—alight with a fire—and wrapped in a blanket despite the warmth of the summer night. The browns and greens of her fatigues seemed too large for her frail body.

Ariana’s concern for her sister hadn’t abated much since she’d arrived in Haven. It pained her to see her looking so delicate. But Ariana knew that Evelyn wasn’t weak, despite her fragile appearance. She could tell by the way her sister commanded awe and respect from the people of Haven. They both feared and revered her, as did the leadership.

In fact, the only person she’d met thus far who didn’t seem to outright fear her sister was the intelligence director, Leliana. Ariana got the impression that the woman didn’t fear much.

Her sister picked up her mug, the small movement pulling Ariana back into the present. The silence that had fallen between the two Trevelyans stretched on as her sister sipped her tea. Their interactions had been stilted and awkward, despite Ariana’s best efforts to keep the conversation flowing. She was ashamed that she hadn’t considered that more than a decade in the Circle would change her. Ariana struggled to reconcile the Evelyn she held in her heart with the living, breathing Evelyn in front of her.

The most obvious and significant difference in her sister was her appearance. Ariana expected her to have aged, but she barely recognized her sister with her shocking white hair, completely devoid of any color at all. Even more unsettling than the pure white hair was the unnatural green color of her eyes. The cheerful pale blue she remembered had disappeared, replaced by a color that perfectly matched the swirling green hole in the sky. Her sister's eyes unnerved her every time Ariana looked into them.

The conversation over dinner had focused on insignificant bits and pieces of their lives since the fateful day Evelyn had been taken by templars. Evelyn had once been Ariana’s closest friend and confidant. The person who protected her against the world. To speak of nothing important was heartbreaking. But once the dinner plates were cleared and they were left to their after dinner tea, Evelyn asked about their parents. Ariana didn’t want to overload her, but there was a sincerity in her sister’s question and gentleness in her eyes.

Before Ariana even realized what she was doing, she’d unloaded the entire story. Every last piece of the tragedy that befell House Trevelyan after the day Evelyn was taken. Their parents never recovered from the loss of their eldest daughter. It was as though Ariana lost her entire family in one fell swoop. When her mother passed before the beginning of the Blight, her father lost his will to live. He’d remained as strong as he could after the templars took Evelyn away, but losing the love of his life had been too much to bear.

It had been more than ten years now, but sometimes it still felt like yesterday when her world began to crumble.

Her sister stifled a yawn. Rather than overstay her welcome, Ariana bade her goodnight and slipped out into the Haven night. Their resident author, Varric Tethras, was speaking from near the fire pit. A small crowd had gathered around him, asking for details of his time with the Champion of Kirkwall. Ariana had read the book and, although it may seem incredible to the average reader, there was some truth within it. At least his representation of the Prince of Starkhaven was spot on.

Her sister’s cabin wasn’t far from the chantry so it took no more than a few minutes to climb the stairs and walk the short distance toward her room.

The chantry seemed unnaturally quiet, but she caught sight of the fair-hair commander on his knees in front of the statue of Andraste. He’d been there earlier this afternoon when she left. Had he returned or had he never left to begin with?

She paused to consider his bent form. The candles—a mainstay in modern day chantries despite the near useless of them—made his hair shine like spun gold. The waves had gone rogue in the humidity of summer, curling in haphazard directions, giving him a disheveled look that made him look so human. He was as mortal as the rest of them.

Why wasn’t he in the tavern with the rest of the men? Or at least, doing something more normal than this?

He was no longer a templar, he’d said, so the fact that he was still praying like one was interesting. In her experience, templars often joined the Order for the prestige and the power that came with it. This commander, however, seemed to get some benefit out of the prayer. She wondered how true his devotion was or whether there was more to this chapel visit than met the eye.

He lifted his eyes to the statue of Andraste and the murmur of a prayer fell from his lips. When he dropped his hands, clenched tightly into fists at his side, she slipped into her room as quietly as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Enchanté_ \- (French) Enchanted


	2. Chapter 2

“Is this a joke?” Ariana stared at the man outside the guard booth. She carefully maintained eye contact, not wanting to be caught studying the lines of dark tattoos inked on his face.

“No, my lady. The order was clear. You are not to leave the main gate.”

“Then who do I need to speak with about changing that order?”

“The commander.” 

Ariana let out a sigh of frustration. She hadn’t interacted with the man at all since the first days in Haven, but he’d been constantly on her mind. She was aware of him in a way she hadn’t been of another person. Not for awhile. Maybe not ever. It was his quiet presence around the village, the way he was so unassuming, that was driving her to distraction.

She wondered whether it could be due to boredom. As the bann of a powerful estate, one of the most powerful in all of the Free Marches, she tempered a considerable amount of power amongst the Marcher aristocracy and within much of southern Thedas. There was always something to be done. Yet she found herself in some backwater Fereldan village with very little to do. And now she was confined within the gates of that village. 

She’d already checked in with her steward several times to ensure that the estate was running smoothly. And it was. The steward had been with her family several decades, almost as long as Ariana herself had been alive, and he knew Southwatch better than anyone else alive. Herself included.

Since she was not needed in her business, she’d sought out activities to keep her occupied and had discovered the infirmary sorely in need of supplies. Doctor Adan was overworked, with the constant influx of refugees, and short staffed. Ariana offered to visit the camps to learn what services she might be able to provide. Instead of finally doing something useful, she was stuck here at the gate with the guard refusing to let her go any further.

“What is your name?” She asked the man in front of her.

“Knight-Captain Rylen,” he answered quickly. “At your service.” The barest hint of a rolling r caught her attention. Starkhaven. Interesting.

“Nice to meet you, Knight-Captain. Will you please let the commander know that I would like to speak with him?” 

Rylen gave her a skeptical look, but walked inside the guardhouse and picked up a phone. His eyes remained on her, intense even through the glass, as he spoke into the mouthpiece. He nodded once at the end before hanging up. “He is aware of your request, but he is otherwise occupied at present.”

“Then I shall wait.”

Rylen’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait… where?”

“Right here.”

Minutes ticked past as Ariana waited in front of the gate for the commander. As she waited, she greeted the villagers who passed by on their errands, making small talk and learning more about their lives in Haven.

Focused on her conversation with Isessa, one of the elven women who’d been cleaning Ariana’s room since he arrival, she didn’t notice the presence of the commander until he cleared his throat. “You wish to speak with me?”

Isessa shrunk away at the sound of his voice, making herself as small as possible.

Ariana turned, narrowing her eyes at the man. “Commander, I was speaking with Isessa. She’s been in Haven for several months as she was sent ahead to help with preparations for the Conclave. Have you met?”

The commander looked at the small elven woman as though he’d finally noticed her. “I… no, we have not. A pleasure.” 

He nodded as Isessa gave a short curtsey, escaping from the situation as soon as she had done so. Once the elven woman was far enough away, Ariana lifted an eyebrow at him. “Are you always so rude?”

His face bunched in confusion. “What?”

“You interrupted our conversation. Like you didn’t even notice her. You may not have bothered to pay much attention to the servants, but they are the backbone of this village. The Inquisition would be hobbled without them. It shouldn’t be that hard to treat them with basic decency.”

He looked around the village, seeming to notice the people moving around for the first time. When he turned his attention back to her, he gave her a firm nod to acknowledge what she’d told him. But he remained silent, his eyes fixed on her.

“Your knight-captain tells me that I’m not allowed to exit the village. Your orders, apparently.” The two of them glanced toward the guardhouse where Rylen was attempting to look intrigued by the logbook sitting on the desk in front of him.

“That is correct.”

Ariana’s nostrils flared as she lowered her voice. “I am the Bann of Southwatch. I will not be caged. Not by you, not by anyone.” 

Realization flickered through the commander’s golden eyes. “That’s not… I can see how—” He let out a frustrated sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Can you defend yourself?” 

“I can protect myself if needed.” 

He cast a glance down at her body, sizing her up. Ariana tilted her head up toward his face, watching his reaction. He was careful not to linger too long in places he shouldn’t, but it was long enough for Ariana to feel the jolt of awareness that shot through her.

When his gaze found hers again, he spoke carefully, “That was not the question. Can you defend yourself? Have you ever had training?”

She sighed as she shook her head, worried that he might challenge her to prove it right then and there if she told him anything but the truth.

“I thought not.” He crossed his arms across his chest. She opened her mouth to argue, but he continued, “The order was given to protect you, not to cage you.” 

She pressed her lips together in annoyance. “Paparazzi aren’t that bad.”

“Not paparazzi, although they will realize that you are here sooner or later, but your presence...” He trailed off, hesitating.

“What about it?”

“Your connection to the Herald will make you—has already made you—a target. Your safety is my responsibility. Should anything happen to you, I do not doubt your sister would kill me.” He let out a soft chuckle. It wasn’t entirely genuine, but Ariana relished the way it sounded, brief as it was.

She frowned at the harsh truth of his words. She hadn’t considered the reality of the world that now surrounded her. Her disappointment must have been visible across her face because he reached a hand toward her in a comforting gesture. 

Before he did, he jerked his hand back to his side. A look of pain flashed briefly in his eyes, but he cleared his throat and added, “You will have two guards with you at all times outside these walls. If you learn to defend yourself—”

“When,” she interrupted. Amusement flitted across his face, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. He looked younger. More human. 

“When you learn to defend yourself, you can travel more freely.” A large smile burst forth before she could stop it. He quickly amended himself, “Within reason.”

“Will you be training me then?” She asked, wondering exactly what he had in mind.

The commander shook his head, “No, I don’t have time, but we have many good instructors within the Inquisition ranks. I’ll choose a suitable option.” 

Ariana felt a sting of disappointment. She didn’t even know why it bothered her. Of course he wouldn’t be training her himself. He commanded an army. He didn’t need to waste time teaching her self-defense. Pushing the thought from her head, she asked, “When can I start?”

“Do you have more suitable clothing for working out?”

“Of course I do. Believe it or not, this figure requires some maintenance.” She gestured one hand down along her body. His eyes followed the movement of her hand, lingering a fraction of a second longer on her curves this time.

“Then whenever you want.” He glanced down at his watch before signalling for Rylen to join them. “I’ve a meeting, so I beg your pardon. Let Rylen know if you need anything. Knight-Captain, if Bann Trevelyan wishes to leave the village, she may do so. Make sure there are two guards with her outside these walls.”

Rylen acknowledged the order with a nod before the commander disappeared toward the chantry without a backwards glance. 

As soon as the man was out of earshot, Rylen turned to face her. His blue eyes were intense as he searched her eyes. “Bann Trevelyan, there’s something you should know. I’m from Starkhaven.”

“I know.”

“It is good to see you.”

“Thank you.” 

The silence that hung between them was filled with all the words he’d left unsaid. It was unexpected to find someone here who knew everything. She’d spent more than half a decade locking the memories of Starkhaven away inside of her, but there was a certain comfort in having someone else who already knew.

“Knight-Captain!” An enthusiastic voice called from behind her. Turning, she saw two troops at attention. Rylen gave the two newcomers a few instructions. 

When he was done and one of the guards went to open the gate, Rylen reached out and squeezed her upper arm with a nod. Ariana knew that was all the acknowledgement she would get of what both the city-state and Ariana herself had survived. Both because of what had happened and despite it.

When the gates swung fully open, Ariana stepped into the warm Ferelden day and headed toward the refugee camps.

***

The visit to the camps had been shocking. It had upended everything Ariana thought she knew about the world. She had not expected to find quite so many people living in such a small space. Entire families were living in too small tents, practically on top of their neighbors. And even worse, they had nothing to do. All of them had left everything as they fled the ongoing conflict between mages and templars.

Ariana had to do something to help them. She didn’t know if the Inquisition had enough resources, but she did. It was a worthy cause.

It also gave her a way to contribute. Her conversation that morning with the commander showed her that she was more of a burden than an asset. She had to change that. She didn’t want to add further stress to the already stretched Inquisition.

With her sister still in the Hinterlands, Ariana approached Josephine to discuss a plan. There wasn’t much involved in this initial proposal, a small amount of space for a garden. She hoped there would be enough space for both vegetables and herbs. Vegetables to feed the growing number of mouths at Haven and herbs to replenish Doctor Adan’s dwindling stores. They hadn’t been able to get shipments fast enough to keep up with the demand. 

Josephine agreed, but deferred to Commander Cullen’s judgment when it came to the land. The space Ariana identified was outside the reach of the outer barrier, meaning both she and the refugees would be beyond the protection of Haven.

Each day she’d faithfully taken two guards with her on her visits to the camp, bringing food and basic supplies to those in most need, but it still wasn’t enough. There were almost a hundred refugees now, with more arriving each day. Discontent was rising amongst the refugees and the villagers. 

She had to speak to the commander.

Ariana stood in front of his tent, eyeing the rip in the canvas. She wondered why he chose to sleep in this dinghy tent instead of in the barracks like the other soldiers. 

It was the middle of the afternoon, but she hadn’t been able to locate him elsewhere in the village. He’d not been in the chantry or at the tavern. Rylen told her he wasn’t in the command room or scheduled for a guard shift. His tent was the last place she could think to find him. She cleared her throat and said, “Knock knock!”

A rustling noise sounded from within the tent and one of the canvas flaps was pulled back. He poked his head out. His curly hair was disheveled and his darkened eyes unfocused as he blinked the sleep away. When he realized she was standing outside his tent, he frowned. “Bann Trevelyan? Is there something you need?”

“Yes, I… I wish to speak with you. Did I wake you?”

“Give me a moment.” He dropped the tent flap and Ariana heard more rustling. When he emerged several moments later, he was dressed casually in a white t-shirt and drab fatigue trousers. The soft fabric of the shirt highlighted the cut lines of his chest and the strong muscles of his arms. 

Ariana swallowed as she forced her gaze back to his face. “I’m sorry. I would not have woken you had I realized…”

He ran a hand through his curls in an attempt to tame them. “It’s all right. I’m awake now. What can I help you with?”

“I’ve been visiting the refugee camp and have some ideas that might help improve the conditions. I would like to discuss those ideas with you.”

His darkened gold eyes were fixed on her as he seemed to be making a decision. Ariana held his gaze, taking slow breaths as she waited for him to respond. Finally, he inclined his head. “Very well.”

He led her toward the chantry. When they were about to head inside, he asked, “Do you mind if we sit outside?”

“I would love that.”

He bypassed the front door and led her to a back corner of the village. Several large pieces of timber were lying about, along with some organized stacks of cut wood. Some sort of construction area, she gathered. He sat down on a large tree stump while Ariana settled onto a felled tree nearby.

“All right, you have my attention.”

With a deep breath, Ariana explained the high points of her proposal and expected results. According to her inventories of the village supplies, they wouldn’t have enough food to make it to winter, much less to survive the winter. The shortage of medical supplies was only compounding the problem. They would have to improve deliveries, but there was more they could do locally.

He listened and asked questions at appropriate moments. When she was finally done, he flipped through the documents she’d handed him, pausing to look at one for several long moments. “There isn’t space for a garden of this size within the walls. Or the outer barrier.”

“I know.” She captured her lower lip between her teeth.

He set the papers down on the ground next to him. “Earlier this week I asked you to start self-defense training.”

There it was. She cast her eyes up toward the sky in frustration. “I know.” 

“You’ve made no attempt to begin those lessons.”

She frowned at him. “Why does that matter so much to you?” 

“Because you won’t always have guards with you. We don’t have the manpower for that.”

Her stomach dropped. Hurt and confusion swirled around inside of her and Ariana closed her eyes, not wanting him to see. She hadn’t meant to be a burden, but she was all the same. For the first time since she’d arrived in Ferelden, she wondered if coming here had been a mistake. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes.

“Bann…” he started hesitantly. She opened her eyes to see the worry written across his face. “I didn’t mean—”

“You did.” She stared down at her clasped hands. She wasn't going to cry. Not today. Not ever. She didn't know what it was about this man that made her feel everything so much more intensely. 

With a deep breath and straight back, she looked up into his eyes. "All right, Commander. Let me have the space for the garden outside these walls and I'll do your training."

***

Challenge glinted in her eyes as she stared at him, her back ramrod straight. Cullen had been trying to figure out what he could possibly say that wouldn't make things worse. He'd expected to comfort her, to tell her that what he meant was that he wanted her safe and he didn't even know why it mattered to him so much. Instead of all that, she stared at him with hard eyes. Cullen didn't know how they'd gotten here after she'd looked so shattered, but here they were.

"I would approve the garden either way. That was not in question." He sighed and pressed his hands to his knees as he stood. "If you really don't want to do the training, I'm not going to force you."

"Call whoever is doing it and tell them I'm ready." She rose to stand, taking several measured steps toward him. He noticed the way tendrils of black hair escaped from her braid, framing her face in loose flyaways spurred on by the humidity of the Fereldan summer.

Cullen glanced down at his watch. Rylen would still be on duty in central command for several hours, whereas he still had some time until his next shift began.

"Rylen agreed to train you, but he's on duty. Perhaps you and I could give it a go and Rylen can pick it up from there?"

The edge of her lip quirked up in what was meant to be amusement, but the challenge still lingered in her eyes. "I'll go change."

Cullen moved about the small clearing, relocating pieces of equipment and lumber to make space for them. They no longer needed this space since they'd finished construction on the barracks. The larger lumber mill they'd located outside the gates also meant they no longer needed to fell what few trees still remained next to the chantry.

When he was finished, he paused and surveyed the area. It was private back here, a forgotten corner of Haven. The sun was low enough in the sky that it was casting long shadows. Evenfall would be upon them soon.

He shouldn't be here right now. Not alone, waiting for the bann. The woman who made him forget himself every time he was around her. He should take over the last few hours of Rylen's shift and let him take care of it. But the little voice whispering at the back of his mind told him it was okay to be selfish, just this once. It was okay to spend more time with her.

Perhaps if he did, he could break free of whatever hold she seemed to have on him.

Maker, what was he thinking? He couldn't be doing this. He had an army to command, for Andraste's sake. He had to get this... fascination he had with Ariana Trevelyan under control.

A twig cracked under foot and he started, looking to where she approached. "On second thought…" The words died on his lips. She was wearing _that_?

She strolled toward him with almost feline grace. The smooth expanse of her midriff exposed between the hem of her long sleeved, cropped top and her high-waisted, form-fitting leggings. The top was cut in a low v, drawing his eyes to places he really shouldn't be looking.

"On second thought?" She repeated back as she reached him. Now that she'd finally traded her heeled shoes for something more practical, she was several inches shorter, tilting her chin up to look him in the eyes. "Did you change your mind?"

"No! I thought—" Cullen stepped back, putting some distance between them. He focused on her eyes, her piercing grey eyes, as different emotions flooded through him. Desire. Want. Need. Not thoughts he should be having about a noble. The Herald of Andraste's sister no less.

She stepped closer toward him again. "Is something the matter... Commander?"

The way she said his title had a fresh wave of inappropriate thoughts running through his head. He gritted his teeth together. He had to regain control of this situation. "If you had to choose a weapon, what would you choose?"

She blinked at him, stunned by the abrupt shift. He continued, "Gun? Knife? Knuckles?"

"I don't want a weapon. Where would I keep it?"

Before she could react, Cullen swept her feet out from under her. He took the brunt of the fall, but had her flipped on her back and pinned to the ground seconds later. Her eyes widened in shock and she struggled against him. His tight grip prevented her from doing more than making him acutely aware of her body underneath him.

Maker, he was in so much trouble.

"Hold still a moment," he gritted. 

When she stopped moving, Cullen pointed out two places she could keep a weapon. "Knives could go here or here."

She craned her neck to look down between them. "Where?"

He pointed at the two locations again—one at her hip, the other on her leg—but she shook her head at him. “I can’t see where you’re pointing.”

Cullen was intensely aware of the way their bodies pressed together. The hard ground gave the bann no room to move. If she wanted to see, he couldn’t be this close to her. And Maker knew he couldn’t touch her. 

He started to push himself up, but her hands curled around his biceps as he did. Cullen froze.

Her nostrils flared ever so slightly. "Show me."

Cullen bit back a groan. "That's not a good idea."

A smirk appeared on the edges of her lips. Cullen's eyes dropped to focus on them as her hands ran up his arms to his chest. Her fingertips danced along the neckline of his shirt and she shifted under him.

Maker's breath. She felt so good.

She flattened her palms on his chest and lifted her eyebrows. Before Cullen realized what she was doing, she shoved him. Hard.

He rolled to the side and stared up at the trees above him. He was in the process of thanking the Maker for her presence of mind when she threw one leg over him, straddling him. She pinned his wrists next to his head.

"Bann…" His voice came out in strangled plea. He couldn't focus on anything except the way her body felt on his. The way her legs wrapped tightly around his hips. The way she pressed into him. He tried to think of anything else, but he couldn't look away.

This moment would be burned into his memory. It would haunt his dreams. The way she looked, the way she felt… Maker preserve him.

Her eyes danced triumphantly as she leaned over him, her breath tickling in his ear as she whispered, "Check."

She pulled back, rocking her hips as she leaned over him. Cullen couldn't prevent the groan from escaping his lips this time. He looked up into her face. Whatever playfulness had been there had darkened into something all the more dangerous. He watched as her lips parted and her tongue darted out to wet them. "Your move," she murmured.

He couldn't even if he wanted to. If he did, she would know exactly what she was doing to him. Maybe she already knew. Cullen closed his eyes and begged Andraste for deliverance from the enchantment this woman had him under. And forgiveness for his weakness.

His phone began vibrating in the pocket of his trousers. Ariana looked down at it and Cullen took advantage of the distraction to roll her off him. He kept hold of one wrist, pulling her arm behind her back as gently as possible. "This isn’t a game."

"Is it not?" She looked over her shoulder at him as a smirk reappeared on her face. “In that case, I suppose I yield.” 

He released her, stumbling back a few feet to put some distance between them. She rolled to face him, propping her head up on her hand and studied him. Her eyes were dancing again, this time in triumph. Cullen couldn't help but feel that he'd gotten in over his head in a game he hadn't even known he'd been playing.

He closed his eyes, trying to escape from how beautiful she looked laid out in front of him, the sheen of exertion making her glow in the late afternoon sun. But when he did, all he could see was her. The smell of her still lingered, tantalizing his senses as he fought for some semblance of control.

He was toeing a line he had no business being anywhere near. He didn't even know what he'd hoped to gain from this. He had nothing to offer. He was merely an ex-templar with a lingering lyrium addiction and a penchant for wanting women he could never have. She was a noble, a bann at that. They existed in two entirely different realms. Even if he gave in to… whatever was happening here, it could not end well. It never did for him.

"That was fun." He snapped his eyes open. She was still stretched out across the ground in front of him. "Same time tomorrow then?"

Cullen's phone began vibrating from his pocket again. He pulled it out, frowning at it. "I'll let Rylen know. He'll be in touch." 

He almost missed the look of disappointment that flashed across her face as he swiped his finger across the screen and lifted the phone to his ear. "Rutherford."

"Where are you?" Josephine’s voice held more than a hint of irritation. "The meeting started ten minutes ago."

"I’ll be right in." After he hung up, Cullen pushed himself to his feet and reached a hand down toward Ariana. She accepted his help, brushing the dirt off her as she rose. 

Where she’d been so alive mere minutes before, a polished mask had now slipped into place. She gave him a polite, but distant, smile. “Well, good evening then." She started toward the chantry.

"Bann, wait." He reached out to stop her and she stiffened. He pulled his hand back before he touched her. "I… want to thank you for doing this."

"Of course. For the Inquisition."


	3. Chapter 3

He was avoiding her. She was certain of it and that bothered her.

At first, she chalked up the distance to the sheer amount of work the man had to do while building an army. But in the days since their little sparring match, he’d steered clear of her altogether. If she caught sight of him in the distance, he would make himself scarce before she could get close.

She couldn’t forget the way he’d felt under her… and on top of her. The way her fingertips traced the lines of his chest. The dark intensity of his golden eyes as he struggled with his self-control.

Ariana let out a frustrated groan as she dug the spade into the soil in front of her. The previous week had been spent preparing the beds and planting seeds. It was already late in the season, maybe even too late, but Ariana hoped they would still get at least something from the land. Things were different here in the south, but it was only halfway through Solace. There was still time yet. While the vegetables were coming from seed, she’d dug up more than a dozen elfroot plants from inside the village walls this morning. She hoped that transplanting the herbs would make for a quicker harvest.

She dumped a spadeful of soil on top of the roots and tamped down lightly with her hands. Before she left, she needed to remember to water. Although it was shortly past sunrise, it was already a warm day.

It had been almost too easy this morning to convince the young soldier manning the guardhouse not to rouse anyone to accompany her. Of course, she would be perfectly safe outside the walls. Knight-Captain Rylen had prepared her well.

At least that hadn’t been a lie. Rylen _had_ been a good trainer. He’d been patient, but firm, repeating moves again and again until Ariana could do them without thinking. 

Even though he was a templar, she liked the man. He was practical and cared about people, although, like the Starkhavener he was, he did so rather stoically.

During one of their sessions, he’d caught sight of the pale scars that ran down her forearms. When he recognized what he was looking at, he pulled her into his arms and held her for several long moments. Almost more to comfort himself than her. He never said anything about it afterwards. Nor did she. 

A twig cracked in the distance behind her. Ariana gripped the spade as she listened for the approaching footsteps. She never heard them, but she knew he was there all the same. It was in the way the air shifted to make space for him.

Relief surged through her. Her plan worked. He had come for her. Once the relief passed, she felt the familiar flutter of delight that started deep in her chest whenever he was around.

“You’re not supposed to be out here alone,” the commander spoke quietly. The deep baritone of his voice soothing, even from a distance.

Ariana turned at the waist to finally look at him. He was leaning against a tree, arms crossed at his chest. He was dressed as he had been the last time she’d seen him, in a white t-shirt and fatigue trousers. His golden hair was unkempt, as though he'd come straight from bed. 

“I’m perfectly safe,” she told him, lifting an eyebrow in challenge.

“You couldn’t know that.” He took measured steps toward her before pausing to hover several feet away in uncertainty. 

She dropped the spade and rose to her feet, inspecting him from the distance as she brushed her dirt-covered hands on her legs. Ariana was surprised to realize he was unarmed. Even the handgun he normally wore at his waist was missing. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

“How could you possibly…” he trailed off. Realization dawned in his eyes. “You knew the guard would tell me.”

“I did.”

Uncertainty surfaced in his eyes again. He stared at her as though he couldn’t understand her. How could he when she didn’t even know what she wanted? She wanted to hate him for things that he had let happen in Kirkwall. But she couldn’t. Not when he had left the Order. Not when he was trying to return some normalcy to the world. Not when he was so… good.

And she was attracted to him in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe ever.

The song of morning—birds chirping, wind rustling in the leaves, and the silence of the peaceful valley—surrounded them as they stared at one another, until Cullen finally broke the silence.

“Guards will be out in a moment. Don’t do this again.” He began to turn away, back toward the path to the village.

“I don’t want guards.”

He paused, but did not turn back toward her. “We’ve been over this. Until you can protect yourself, if you leave the village, the guards go with you.”

“Then test me again.”

“No.” He shook his head.

“What are you so afraid of?” She narrowed her eyes, taking several steps toward him. “Test. Me. Again.”

He turned. Slowly. As he did, his gaze swept down over her body, taking in her outfit. “How much do you like that shirt?”

Her eyebrows furrowed at the question. “It’s only a shirt, I don’t really—”

Ariana broke off as he lunged for her, grabbing her arm. She twisted away, but felt the pull of fabric on her arm holding her back. He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her off her feet.

She tried to remember what she’d learned during her training. Tried to remember the different ways Rylen had taught her to break away from an attacker. She struggled to find space to move with his arms firm around her. He grunted as she kicked his shin, the brief loosening of his hold enough for her to break free. She stumbled several steps back as he advanced on her.

Breathing heavily, she scooted around a tree. As he came around it, she tripped him. He grabbed her leg, pulling her down with him. Ariana started to scrambled away, but he dragged her back toward him.

No matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to get out of his grasp. Within moments, he had her hands caught above her head as he hovered over her, his body pinning her to the ground. He took in heavy breaths as he looked down at her. 

After several long moments, he released her and pushed himself up off her, rising to stand. Ariana sat up and followed to her feet. 

He was standing with his back toward her, still taking deep, gulping breaths. “My answer is still no.”

“That wasn’t fair,” she pouted.

“Fair?” He let out a dark laugh as he spun around to face her. “No assailant will fight ‘fair’.”

She let out a frustrated noise and took several steps towards him, closing the distance. “What is this really about?” She pressed her hands to his chest and gave him a light shove. “What is that you really want, Commander?”

He grabbed her forearms to keep her from pushing him another time. A shockwave rocked through her at his touch. The feel of his hands burned through the fabric of her sleeves. His eyes met hers, filled with desire and longing. Despite her annoyance, triumph surged through her at knowing that he wanted her. That he was affected by her, too.

_Fuck it._

She stepped closer.

***

The bann splayed her hands across his chest as looked up into his eyes. She could probably feel his heart beating wildly for her under her hands. He tried to slow his breathing, tried to calm it, but she was so close. 

“Cullen…” Her voice was no more than a whisper, but the feel of it reverberated through his body.

It was the first time she’d said his name. He’d never heard it sound so flawless, a mixture of reverence and sensuality, as when it came off her lips. Her beautiful, perfect lips that were parted and waiting, begging to be kissed. Her gaze dropped to his mouth before her eyelids fluttered closed as she tilted her face up toward his.

For a brief moment, Cullen considered giving in. He considered capturing her mouth with his, pouring every want and desire he had into that kiss. But he could not forget where he was. Who he was.

He released his grip on her arms and stepped back.

Confusion. Disappointment. Hurt. The emotions shot rapidly across her face as she opened her eyes to see him standing several feet away. Neither of them moved as two guards appeared at the edge of the garden and approached them. 

“Good morning, Commander,” one greeted him, briefly releasing his hold on his weapon as he saluted. 

Cullen nodded at the men. They knew what they had been assigned to do.

He turned and strode toward the lake, praying that she wouldn’t follow. When he reached the shore, he sank down onto his knees and looked up at the cloudless sky. 

He unleashed a roar, spreading his arms wide toward the heavens in his frustration. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” He groaned, knowing that he would never receive a response. The Maker never answered the prayers of His children.

He hung his head. It was only the years of therapy and prayer had helped him learn to combat the darkness that hovered within him. The darkness that threatened to overtake him. For every step forward, he felt like he was taking two steps back. He would stay strong. He had to. For the Inquisition.

He didn’t know how long he’d been kneeling there when he finally pushed himself to his feet. He offered one last prayer with a loud sigh, “Oh Maker, hear my cry.”

When he turned back toward the village, Leliana was observing from a distance. She gave him a cryptic smile as he approached and the two of them walked together toward the gate. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

He glared at her out of the side of his eye. 

“Well then. I got a call from Evelyn, she’s on her way back. I think you’ll be pleased by the latest developments.”

Cullen pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He’d panicked when the guard alerted him that the bann was outside the gates. Alone. He hadn’t even bothered getting fully dressed before following her. He didn’t know what she was trying to accomplish, but he was regretting skipping his morning caffeine intake more and more with each passing second.

“At least there’s some good news this morning.” He reached into the pocket of his trousers for an herbal chew. Filling all his pockets had been a smart move.

“Cullen.” Leliana laid a gentle hand on his arm, stopping him. “The Maker would not give you more than you can handle. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

He shook his head at her and popped the chew in his mouth before heading toward the gate.

“Why do you fight it?” Leliana called after him.

He paused, turning to face her. “You know why. Better than anyone.”

“We are all the Maker’s children. You are as worthy of love, divine and mortal, as the rest of us.”

He studied her for a moment. “What are you saying?”

Leliana gave him a look of sympathy and shook her head. “No, you’ll have to figure that one out on your own.” 

With one last sad smile, she turned back toward the lake. Cullen frowned after her for several moments, before entering the village through the gates behind him.

As soon as he did, he felt the mix of magic and tension in the air. He increased his pace, following it to where a small crowd had gathered outside the chantry. Cullen could hear shouting and managed to push through the crowd at the moment a templar lifted his gun to a mage.

“Knight-Commander!” The templar lowered his weapon back toward the ground.

“That is _not_ my title. We are not templars any longer,” he growled at the man. 

Until this moment, Cullen had not realized how true he needed those words to be. _I am not a templar any longer._

“We are all part of the Inquisition!” He continued, trying to drive his point home.

“And what does that mean exactly?” The nasally voice of Chancellor Roderick broke through the noise. Cullen rubbed his face in frustration at the man who seemed determined to make their lives difficult at every turn.

“Get back to work, all of you!” He shouted at the crowd.

As the crowd began to disperse, Cullen caught sight of Bann Trevelyan at the back of the crowd. Maker's breath, he couldn’t do this right now. She would be his undoing. But before he knew it, she was standing next to him. “What’s going on?” She asked quietly as the crowd thinned around them.

He risked a glance toward her. She was eyeing the chancellor with a suspicious look on her face. He murmured back, “Mages and templars were already at war. Now they’re blaming each other for the Divine’s death.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Cullen tilted his head toward the chancellor in response.

Ariana lifted her eyebrows and took several steps towards the other man. She’d changed out of the clothes she’d been wearing that morning into a navy pantsuit and heels, but she seemed to grow even taller as she towered over the small, mousy man who purported to speak on behalf of the Chantry. Roderick had the good sense to look intimidated at the cool and imposing woman, but that didn’t stop him from spewing more drivel about proper authority. 

Cullen scoffed, “Who, you? Random clerics who weren’t even important enough to be at the Conclave?”

“Need I remind you, Chancellor, that House Trevelyan was at the Conclave?” She added, folding her arms across her chest. 

“The so called ‘Herald of Andraste’? I think—”

“That’s enough from you.” Her words were sharp. Her tone as cold as metal on a winter morning. The look she leveled at the chancellor was enough to wilt even the strongest of men, which meant the chancellor had no hope of surviving it. “So far, you’re the only one who’s said we can’t work together.”

“We might, if your sister’s Inquisition would recognize the Chantry’s authority.”

“What authority?” Cullen burst in, exasperation in his voice. “There is none until a Divine is chosen.”

“Justinia herself called this Inquisition, as evidenced by the support of both her Right and Left Hands,” Ariana gestured to where Leliana had appeared in the distance. Thank the Maker.

“Andraste will be our guide, not some wanderer on a mountainside,” the chancellor sneered.

“Get out of my face.” The venom in the bann’s voice surprised him. 

It surprised Roderick too, judging by his reaction. “You cannot—”

“I said get out.” Each word was as sharp as ice, a chill ran through him despite the warmth of the day.

“But—”

“Chancellor Roderick. You are allowed in Haven solely because my sister is a much kinder person that I am. If I had my way, you would be sent back to Val Royeaux. Perhaps in a box. So for you own safety I suggest you get out of my face. Right now.”

The man didn’t even need any further encouragement before he ran away.

Cullen’s eyes darted to Leliana, the spymaster’s face showing smug satisfaction at the exchange that had taken place. This chilling side of the bann frightened Cullen more than a little. She had threatened a cleric of the Chantry. Some might consider her words heresy, but she didn’t even blink as she’d delivered the threat.

She shot Cullen a dark look, dejection and unhappiness appearing in her eyes. He imagined the look he gave her in return was equally as glum. He watched her turn toward the chantry, keeping his eyes on her until she’d disappeared through the heavy oak doors.

Now entirely alone, despondency threatened to overtake him. Cullen could not afford to be weak. This Inquisition relied on his leadership, on his fragile strength. But maybe they shouldn’t. There had to be another option out there. Someone not weakened by lack of lyrium use. Someone who could keep his own troops from coming to blows with one another. Someone who did not carry this much darkness within them. Someone worthy of their respect. Someone worthy of the Maker’s love.

He made his way inside the chantry, sinking down into a pew at the front, his eyes focusing on the statue of Andraste. The words of the Chant formed on his lips so naturally, as though they’d always been there. 

But they hadn’t always been there, had they? They’d been forced there by years of study, years of prayers, years of recitation until those words had replaced anything and everything else.

He clenched his hands into fists to try and stop the shaking in them, but when that didn’t work, he clasped them in prayer as he dropped to his knees. From the earliest time he could remember, he wanted to be a templar. It was the only thing he wanted. For decades.

Although older than the average initiate, he’d been accepted to the boarding school for training. He’d barely been a man himself when they gave him his first hit of lyrium and sent him to Kinloch Hold. He closed his eyes as the pain began in his head. The unwanted memories that he tried so hard to bury rising within him.

Twelve years. It had been twelve years since he arrived at Kinloch Hold and set eyes on Solona Amell. 

Eleven years since he’d said the words that he regretted with every fiber of his being. The words that he had never forgiven himself for saying aloud. The words that haunted his nightmares, both sleeping and waking. Those words that had been a result of the thoughts that warped him into the man he had almost become in Kirkwall.

He’d been infatuated with Solona from the beginning. At least, he now recognized that it was infatuation. He hadn’t at the time, instead believing himself deeply in love with her. She’d been so kind to him after he arrived, uncharacteristically so for a mage under a templar’s watch, and he misinterpreted that kindness as interest. 

She’d been a breath of fresh air in the stifling darkness of the tower. Her bright personality, all laughter and light, made her seem ethereal. Almost otherworldly.

Now there were statues across Ferelden dedicated to her memory. Even rendered in gold, they did not—_could not_—capture the life and joy of her soul any more than they could capture the exquisiteness of her pale gold hair or the depth of her warm brown eyes. 

The worst part was that even in his darkest moment, with his deepest shame laid bare for them all to see, she had still been kind. 

“Little Solona Amell, the whore of Kinloch Hold,” he’d taunted, thinking she was the desire demon that had tormented him for Maker knows how long. “Spreads her legs for anyone who asks.”

One of her companions, a man he later recognized as Alistair Theirin, had wanted to kill him on the spot. Solona merely laid her hand on his arm, calming him in an instant. “He’s a broken man, Alistair, he doesn’t mean it. Let it go.”

_He’s a broken man._ She had no idea how true those words were, then and now.

The Chant of Light fell from his lips. The verses the same as the ones that carried him through his darkest days as he recovered at Greenfell. He dropped his head into his hands as he prayed, reaching for the solace that he could only find in the Maker’s grace.

A fully-fledged migraine began to pulse on the fringes of his consciousness. He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t strong enough.

He rose from where he knelt and began stumbling his way back to his tent as the pain intensified. When he finally got there, he blindly felt through his possessions, finding what he’d been seeking.

With the practiced movements honed over more than a decade, he flicked a finger against the glass philter. He inserted the syringe, pulling it back only enough for the amount he’d need. At one small press of the plunger, several blue droplets pearled out the end of the needle. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the syringe into the vein of his left arm and pushed.

Relief washed over him as the lyrium found its way home, surging through his veins.

After a few moments, the relief transformed into pleasure, so too did his dark thoughts morph into more enjoyable ones. 

He laid back on his sleeping bag, thoughts of Ariana Trevelyan slipping in between the cracks of his self-control. He shouldn’t be thinking of her right now. He shouldn’t be thinking of her at all, but here he was. 

She was exceptional. And beautiful. But beautiful in the way that an unsettled ocean before a storm is beautiful, with darkness and depth simmering underneath the veneer of calm. Ready to unleash the full force of its fury when it was time.

He thought about the wind that swirled in her piercing grey eyes and wondered what he would find if he could release her, truly release her, from the composure she kept wrapped around herself like armor. He found himself contemplating her naked in his bed, her long, black hair stretched across his pillow and her grey eyes luring him in, leaving him lost. She was intoxicating, like a siren song, luring him to her rocky shores. The darkness in her called to the darkness in him.

The sweet song of the lyrium coursed through him as the euphoria finally settled over him. The thoughts of Ariana had invaded his mind, disrupting the usual feeling of bliss that helped him channel his energy. Instead he found the sensation—the raw power coursing through him—to be intoxicating and invigorating.

He needed release.


	4. Chapter 4

Ariana needed a change of pace. After the high of that morning, she couldn’t seem to shake the black cloud that hovered over her.

That her plan to get his attention this morning worked had her walking on sunshine. Instead of sending Rylen, or another soldier, he’d come for her himself. It had been the best case scenario. Even more, when she’d seen the way he wanted her, seen the desire written plainly across his face, she thought they were making some progress. 

But then he’d rejected her and Ariana found herself tumbling toward her current gloomy mood. What was it about her that he found so objectionable? She couldn’t figure it out. She was desirable enough for most men, despite her more classical look. But what she lacked in appearance, was more than made up by her bank account and title.

And why was she even thinking this way? Maker, he was a man. One man. There were others, plenty of others, so why couldn’t she get this one out of her head? What was it about this one that made her entirely lose her senses? 

Even worse than the ricocheting of her mood today, Ariana was starting to realize she was lonely. She felt like a stranger here. An outsider. No matter how many nights she spent in the tavern getting to know the villagers, she did not belong. Not really. 

The people were warming up to her with each pint of ale and each song of Maryden’s, but she was still a noblewoman. They were wary of her, keeping her at an arm’s length. Nor was she a full-fledged member of the Inquisition in the way that Evelyn and her advisors were. The people considered her sister a prophet, the advisors her apostles and most fervent followers, while Ariana was merely the prophet’s doubting sister.

So when Josephine invited Ariana to join her for dinner in her office, it was a welcome distraction. The two women were far more alike than Ariana had thought. Over dinner and drinks, they shared stories of their noble upbringing in the north. Their families knew each other, tangentially, and had even visited each other. But they had fallen out of touch by the time the girls were teens. Not unexpected given the circumstances. Of course, the Blight didn’t help either.

Josephine was a good person. All of them were. Even Cullen, despite her initial misgivings about him. He was not who she’d expected him to be and she was glad of that. She hoped he would give her the same second chance that she’d given him.

Josephine and Ariana stayed up late that night, drinking wine and swapping stories of their pasts. Ariana couldn’t believe she hadn’t crossed paths with Josephine during her time in Val Royeaux, although the woman was a bit older than her own twenty-five years.

When Josephine’s yawns were no longer able to be contained, Ariana took her leave, promising the other woman they would spend more time together.

As much fun as the night had been, Ariana hadn’t been able to shake that morning from her head. Or the afternoon, when that idiot of a Chantry official tried to stir up trouble against her sister. Instead of heading straight to her room and calling it a night, she opted to take a walk to clear her head.

The heavy wooden door of the chantry was already cracked open, allowing Ariana to slip through easily into the quiet of the night. Thousands of stars twinkled overhead as the Breach cast an unnatural green glow over the village.

It was beautiful out here in the mountains.

The stories she’d heard of Ferelden spoke of the rolling green hills and the endless farmland. She already had plenty of green pastures at Southwatch. Why would she give up the place she so dearly loved for more of the same in a place across the sea? But now that she had finally made it here, she realized there was more to the southern country than she’d allowed herself to believe. It was more than only farmland. If she had known how beautiful Ferelden could be, would that have changed anything?

No, she reminded herself, it would not have changed a thing. She would have chosen the Free Marches every time. The Free Marches was home, despite everything, and she wasn’t willing to give that up. Not for anyone. Except her sister.

Eve was the reason Ariana had even come to Ferelden in the first place. Once they'd resolved whatever it was they were doing, she'd go home and life would go back to as normal as it ever could be again. For all her struggles, her visit with Josephine had recalled many of the happier times as well. 

Around her, trees swayed gently in the summer breeze. The Breach cast enough light for her to study the buildings that surrounded her, the hodgepodge of this small village that had become a military outpost. The older buildings interspersed with new construction that tried to keep up with the demand and the need for more space, but there was only so much that could be done.

Ariana was on her way back to the chantry when a muffled cry caught her attention. Her senses immediately went on high alert. It had been so quiet, she couldn’t be sure it was even real. She stilled, listening in the silence.

After several moments, she heard it again. Definitely a woman.

Her heart hammered loudly in her chest as she slipped carefully around the side of the chantry, toward the clearing at the side where she’d sparred with the commander. 

It was an isolated area with very little light that reached it, even that of the Breach. She took an extra second to allow her eyes to adjust. When she was able to make out the edges of the forest, she heard another muffled cry followed by a few grunts.

She wished she had a weapon. Something. _Anything_. But this was Haven. All she had to do was scream to bring guards running.

Quiet steps brought her to the small clearing, the green Breach-light filtered in through a gap in the trees. She caught sight of a couple sitting on a tree stump. The woman straddled the man’s lap, her head was thrown back as she ground against him. Her short brown hair bobbed behind her in time with her movements and she had her hand over her mouth, stifling the groans that were escaping from her lips. His large hands gripped her hips, guiding each of thrust on top of him. 

Ariana’s hand flew to her mouth in a gasp as she stumbled back several steps, shock ripping through her at having encountered this couple here in such an intimate moment.

A twig snapped under her foot and the man lifted his head, hair glinting under the green light. He looked over the woman’s shoulder, straight toward where Ariana stood in the darkness. A shiver ran down her spine as his molten eyes connected with her own and she recognized the eyes of the commander. The same eyes that had been invading her dreams.

The disheveled curls of Cullen’s golden hair were unmistakable now that she’d recognized him, but his eyes… his eyes were like liquid gold. The intense passion of the moment swirled within them, burning straight into her soul.

No matter how much she wanted to leave, to not see what was happening right in front of her, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his. Couldn’t process the fact that the commander was out here, right now, doing this. She was rooted to the ground, holding his gaze until he shuddered in pleasure, his eyelids fluttering to a close at his release.

With the connection severed, Ariana tumbled back against the wall of the chantry before she scampered away. She focused on the sound of her own breath, the feel of the ground under her feet, the pounding of her heart in her chest. Anything to not hear the way the woman stifled her moans of ecstasy.

She slipped through the cracked open door into the chantry, her breath coming in gulps, but she didn’t stop moving until she’d reached her room. When she had finally dead bolted the door behind her, she curled up with her back to the door. What she had stumbled across had been shocking, and yet…

She dropped her head back against the door, overwhelmed by the competing emotions coursing through her. Damn the commander for the confounding mess he inspired within her. Damn him to the void.

Ariana rubbed her hands up her face, running them through her hair before cradling her head in her hands. She had to get her want for him under control. She had to get it out of her system.

Especially because he’d been making it so clear he wanted nothing to do with her.

***

Warm summer air blew through the tent flaps, the light flapping noise jolting Cullen from his slumber. He could tell by the amount of light seeping through the hole in the canvas that he’d slept in. 

Worst of all, he felt hungover. Like, really hungover. With no memory of the night before. He groaned as he rolled onto his side and spotted the half-empty lyrium philter next to his bedroll.

_Shit._

He sat straight up, groaning again as the world began spinning around him. Each movement felt like he was reaching through water as he tried to collect each piece of clothing scattered across his tent. His body protested each movement and his head… oh, his head.

As though that weren’t enough, he tried to remember how long it had been since he had last had lyrium? Three, maybe four weeks? For every step he took forward on weaning himself off, he always went back.

Dizziness overwhelmed him again as he attempted to stand. _Deep breaths, Rutherford_, he told himself as he swayed on his knees. Eyes closed, breath in, breath out. He needed coffee first and then… then he would try to remember.

Once he got himself under control and out of the tent, he discovered it wasn’t as late as he thought. By the way the warm morning light spread across the village, the sun hadn’t been up long. 

He made his way inside the tavern. Flissa, the bartender and tavern keeper, widened her eyes when she saw him. Cullen figured he looked like he’d been to the void and back, but the look on her face all but confirmed how truly awful he must look.

He grabbed a mug of steaming coffee from Flissa and went to sit in the back corner. Cullen inhaled the scent of the coffee. Sweet, Maker-blessed coffee. He held the mug between two hands, enjoying the warmth of the ceramic, as he lifted it to his lips. He carefully took his first sip, closing his eyes at the feeling of relief the black liquid gave his aching body.

When he opened his eyes, he was no longer alone.

Bann Trevelyan was standing across the room from him, her grey eyes piercing him. Amongst the tangled threads of his memories of the previous night, he remembered her eyes with startling clarity. Her intoxicating, stormy eyes. It was only lucid memory in the otherwise mess of a lyrium high. He couldn’t even be sure that it was a memory, and not from the fantasies he sometimes conjured up about her. Or that the demons did for him.

Since he’d met her, his dreams had been consumed by visions of her. Temptations of her. Unable to meet her gaze as some of the more explicit thoughts replayed in his head, he looked down at the mug he gripped between his hands and studied the way the steam swirled up from the hot liquid. 

“You drink black coffee.” When he looked up, he was surprised to find her standing in front of him, an incredulous look on her face. It had been a statement, not a question.

He cleared his throat before lifting the mug back to his lips. “Ten years in Kirkwall.”

“Right.” She hovered nearby, shifting from one foot to another.

“Would you like to sit down?” He asked, surprising even himself. They hadn’t exactly left things on the best of terms the previous morning.

“Oh… I, um, I have to—”

“Bann? I have your order ready,” Flissa announced from behind the bar. Ariana gave an apologetic shrug and walked over to grab her breakfast.

“Another time, then,” he called after her as she reached the door, right before she pushed it open. She paused and looked back over her shoulder at him. For a brief moment, her veneer cracked and she gave him a look so full of agony that his heart ached. 

He wanted to go to her, to wrap her in his arms, and tell her everything was going to be okay.

But he couldn’t do that. He didn’t know if it—whatever _it_ was—would be okay. It sure as void didn’t feel like it. Not today, in the aftermath of his bender, desperately wanting a woman he could never have. Not fully. Not like he wanted.

Cullen finished his mug and started for the door. Flissa stopped him, pressing a to-go cup in his hand as she gave him a wink. He blinked at her in surprise, unsure of where this sudden bout of friendliness was coming from.

He cut around the back of the tavern toward the chantry. As odd as the morning had been, he was grateful for Flissa’s generosity, whatever her reasons. He would need the second cup if he was to survive this day.

Once down in the command center, he quickly got to work reading reports. The lyrium hangover had cleared and Cullen was feeling better than ever. He knew he would pay for it later, but he was going to take full advantage of this brief respite, as dangerous as that could be. He was disappointed in his lapse in judgement the previous night... In finding solace in the philter instead of in the Maker.

Leliana’s words sprung up in his mind, unbidden. _You are as worthy of love as the rest of us._ Cullen didn’t know why she'd told him that. Nor did he know how that could be true. How could he be worthy given everything? All of the choices that he’d made? He wasn’t worthy. He might never be.

He dropped his head in his hands. Everything felt like it was spinning out of control. 

***

The Herald returned to Haven and promptly left again, onward to Val Royeaux. Between Josephine's insistence and Cassandra's support, he and Leliana had been outnumbered. The Herald would be approaching whatever remained of the Chantry directly. The only thing that could have made it worse—and did—is that she had taken her sister with her.

All Cullen could manage was to send two soldiers as drivers and backup. They weren't going for the Herald. That Trevelyan could handle herself more than well enough, especially with Cassandra alongside her. They were for the younger Trevelyan sister. They always would be. 

He had to keep her safe. He had to. The strength of his need to protect her was disconcerting in a best case scenario. In a worst case, it would be his undoing.

There hadn't been a specific threat. Not yet. But there had been some interesting chatter in the darkest recesses of the internet. Leliana’s people were keeping an eye on it, but it still unsettled him to know they might be sending out the bann without enough defenses. 

So he’d sent soldiers and prayed that the Maker watch over her.

“I see that you are a man of the Maker, Commander…?” Cullen looked up from where he kneeled in front of the statue of Andraste to see a revered mother standing in front of him. He pressed himself up to his feet.

“More or less. Commander Cullen. At your service.”

“Of Ferelden?” Cullen stiffened as the mother came closer, wondering what she may have heard of him. “I spent many years with refugees from there in the years following the Blight. I recognize the accent.” 

She extended her hand to him. “Mother Giselle.”

“Of Jader? I’ve heard of you.”

She gave him a gentle smile. “You are here frequently. If there is anything that I can do to help ease your burden…”

Cullen interrupted her. “What makes you think I need help?”

“It was merely an offer, should you want it.” She shrugged and headed toward the door. “Perhaps I will see you at vespers tonight.”

She was almost at the exit when Cullen called after her. “Mother Giselle?”

“Yes?”

“Do you hear confession?”

Her smile radiated kindness. “Tomorrow after lauds. Good day, Commander.”

He nodded. “Good day, Revered Mother.”

He did not attend vespers that evening. Instead, he buried himself in the reports of the area. Rift activity was increasing across the region and indeed, across all of southern Thedas. Cullen read reports until he could barely keep his eyes open, strained in the soft glow of his laptop screen, pushing through until he couldn’t think any longer. 

So it was no surprise when he woke with his face flat against his keyboard and a migraine already pounding behind his eyes. He fumbled in his pocket for an herbal chew, popping it in his mouth. It might not be enough. One of Adan’s stronger concoctions might be the better option this morning.

As he climbed the stairs, he heard the penultimate morning prayer being chanted from the chapel. He paused, destination forgotten, and hovered on the outer fringes of worshippers as Mother Giselle finished the prayers from the front. 

When the morning prayers were complete and the others had shuffled out of the chantry to their morning duties, Mother Giselle gestured Cullen to a back corner, to a small dark space separated by a curtain.

She didn’t speak, instead waiting silently on the other side. Cullen knew the words he was expected to say, but they were trapped inside of him. Like so many of the words he’d been unable to say in the preceding days, weeks, months, and years. And he was tired of carrying it all alone. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to anymore. 

Cullen kneeled on the cushion in front of him and folded his hands together. He wouldn't ever—_couldn't_ ever—reveal everything, but maybe... he could let go of some. Only a little. For the good of the Inquisition.

He cast his eyes toward the ceiling and prayed, “Bless me, Mother, for I have sinned.”


	5. Chapter 5

The invitation to the Ghislain Estate was unusual. Madame Vivienne, former Enchanter of the Imperial Court, had a bit of reputation among the nobility. Ariana was hesitant for them to accept the invite, given how poorly approaching the Chantry had gone. Nobody expected the Chantry to welcome her sister with wide open arms, but what happened in Val Royeaux had shocked them all. 

But after much debate and many discussions between the Inquisition's advisors at Haven, they decided it was an opportunity the Inquisition could not pass on for many reasons, at least once of which was that much of the Orlesian aristocracy would be in attendance. The potential to make more connections and build the Inquisition’s influence was the part that both Josephine and Leliana saw value in.

Their party had arrived that morning to the small village near the estate. It had been lucky they’d found enough available rooms at a small inn off the main road. Probably since most partygoers would be staying the night at the estate, as was the Orlesian tradition. Given their last minute invitation, Ariana did not want to assume that any such accommodation would be made for them.

Knowing they’d be at Madame Vivienne’s in a few short hours, Ariana was relieved she’d taken the opportunity to shop in Val Royeaux. The soldiers accompanying them to the capital refused to let Ariana anywhere near the meeting with the Chantry, so she’d attempted to punish them by dragging them to each and every shop along the upper levels of the city. If it was punishment, they’d never let on. In fact, they were remarkably good sports about it.

It wasn’t entirely intended as punishment, however. The shopping had been desperately needed. Ariana arrived in Haven with no more than a few suitcases, certainly not enough to attend a party hosted by the “jewel of the high court.”

She pulled a new gown of ice blue out of the garment bag hanging in her closet. The sheer fabric had a hint of shimmer in the late afternoon light. It reminded her of the ocean in summer, like light dancing on the waves. 

The dress was conservative at first glance, with a high neck, long sleeves, and a long skirt, but closer inspection would reveal the fabric to be entirely sheer. The carefully placed slip underneath made it the barest hint shy of scandalous, something that would be sure to grab the Orlesians attention. It would be perfect.

Ariana slipped into the dress and was struggling with the buttons at the back when her sister entered her room. Their eyes met in the mirror and Evelyn’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You look beautiful,” Evelyn told her, crossing the room to help button up the back of the dress. “This dress is stunning. Did you get it in Val Royeaux?”

Ariana nodded. “It was already made, it only needed a few adjustments.”

Evelyn looked contemplative for a moment as she stared down at her own clothes, her fingers reaching up to tug at her sleeve. “Commander Cullen has arrived with clothing for me. A formal Inquisition uniform. I don’t know how our ambassador managed to pull that off so quickly.”

“Commander Cullen is here?” Ariana turned to face her sister in surprise. That was the last thing she’d expected to hear. She wouldn’t have thought him the type to attend a party in Orlais, but she didn’t know him at all. 

If she were being honest, she hadn’t even tried to. She knew the rumors of him from Kirkwall and the bits and pieces from the three and a half weeks she’d spent in Haven, but she hadn’t ever asked. Most of her time in Haven had been consumed by her peculiar attraction to him. Now that she’d had some distance and almost a week of hindsight, she was embarrassed by her actions.

Ariana pressed her lips together to keep herself from visibly cringing at how she’d behaved around him, like a teenager with a crush. She’d thrown herself at him and then thrown a tantrum when she didn’t get her way. That was not acceptable behavior for anyone, much less the Bann of Southwatch.

Now that she’d regained control of her senses, she’d treat him like she did any other employee of the Inquisition. Polite. Cordial. And hopefully someday, as a friend.

Her sister nodded, reaching down to the dresser to grab a decorative hair pin Ariana had laid out for that evening. “Yes. Solas thought it better he not attend the party and Cullen thought it best to have enough backup, in case… well, in case anything should happen.”

“Doesn't the Inquisition have an entire army who could do that? Why him?” Ariana took the pin from her sister and pinned it in her hair. 

Evelyn shrugged, tugging at the cuff on her undershirt again. “I am appreciative of him coming.”

“He would do anything to protect you, you know that.” Ariana laid a hand on her sister’s arm to comfort her, but Evelyn smiled sadly.

“For faith or for duty, I’m not sure which, but not for me.”

“Oh, Eve, I don’t think that’s true.”

Evelyn gazed at her sister for a minute. “Not that it matters. I’ll be back in a Circle once this is all over.”

Ariana’s mouth dropped open before she could stop it. “Don’t say that!”

Evelyn shrugged as she looked away. After several beats of silence, she shifted topics, “You know, I’ve never worn formal clothes before.”

Ariana wondered what her sister was trying to avoid with the change of topic.

“Parties were not permitted in the Circle so I never learned how— Well, would you help me with the clothes? And my hair?”

“Of course.” Ariana gestured toward the dressing table in her room. Evelyn sat down onto the stool and Ariana began to pull her hair back, twisting it to see how it would look.

“Can you leave it down?” Evelyn asked, a look of panic appearing on her face as she tugged several strands over the left side of face. The burn scar that ran along her jawline was subtle and had healed well. Ariana hadn’t even noticed it until she saw the way her sister constantly tugged at her hair in an attempt to cover it. Her hair was too short to do so and all Evelyn had managed was to draw more attention to it.

“I was thinking up would look nice. You know, I have some makeup that’s made to cover scarring if you’d like—”

Evelyn stiffened. Her eyes met Ariana’s in the mirror. She looked upset, but Ariana didn’t know exactly what she’d said to do that. A knock sounded on the door. 

“Never mind on the hair,” Evelyn told her as she rose, “We don’t have enough time anyway.” She came back from answering the door with a hanging bag. When she unzipped it, a ball gown styled like a formal military uniform lay inside.

It was a thick, true black, trimmed in gold. The darkness would highlight the pure white of Evelyn’s hair. The golden laurel branches that ran down the front of the jacket and the sleeves practically shouted the Inquisition’s power and influence.

Josephine was aspirational on that front, at least for the time being, but Ariana could not deny the woman had exceptional taste in clothing.

She silently begged Andraste that Cullen wouldn’t have a matching uniform. If he did, her newfound resolve would likely crumble into nothing. She couldn’t let herself get distracted, not tonight. Not when there was so much at stake for all of them. 

But as she walked down the staircase toward the foyer, she discovered her prayer had gone unanswered. _As usual_, she thought wryly. The commander stood in the foyer, deep in conversation with Seeker Pentaghast. She willed herself not to react, at least not visibly, as a frisson ran down her spine at his appearance. His uniform wasn’t identical. Not exactly. But that was more of a technicality. It was still dark black with accents of gold. He looked imposing. Impressing. And, dare she say, sexy beyond belief. 

_Maker save her_.

She imagined unbuttoning the jacket and sliding it down over his broad shoulders as he lifted her against the wall and— Ariana blinked several times, trying to push the images of him, _them_, from her mind. This was not the time nor the place.

Why was he even here? The question plagued her. She could not afford to be distracted. Not tonight. Not by him.

This wasn’t a village in the middle of Ferelden where no one way paying attention. This was Orlais. They were centuries into the Game and any misstep could be catastrophic for her.

Her movement caught his eye and he turned toward the stairs. His eyes widened a fraction as they flickered down her body. Her dress felt two sizes too small as she took several shallow breaths, trying to get her heartbeat under control. When his eyes returned to meet hers, a flash of desire shot through them. She waited for the look of shame that usually followed, but it didn’t come. 

All she saw this time was how much he wanted her.

She smiled at him, carefully keeping her face perfectly neutral, but inside she was screaming. How did he have the ability to undo her with a single look?

Cullen blushed, opening his mouth to say something, but Cassandra spoke first. “You look lovely tonight, Bann.”

“Thank you, Seeker.”

Cassandra turned back toward the commander. “If you and Bann Trevelyan leave now, you should have enough time before we arrive.”

If there was a Maker, he had a sense of humor. An incredibly twisted sense of humor. Right? He had to for any of this to make sense.

“I thought we’d all be going together?” Ariana interrupted, drawing their attention back to her. Cassandra cast an uncertain glance in the commander’s direction.

“I should like to arrive before the Herald. For security purposes.” His eyes were burning through her. Ariana felt a flush rushing in her chest at the intensity of his gaze.

“And you need me for that?”

“I don’t have an invitation. If we arrive together, no one will question my presence.”

“But—” She broke off, none of the excuses running through her head sounding right. It made sense, it really did. She sighed, “All right, let’s go.”

Cullen held out his arm to escort her to a black sedan waiting in the circle drive. It was a far cry from the old sport utility vehicles they’d driven to Val Royeaux and then here to the small village near the Ghislain Estate. Cullen helped her into the passenger seat before taking his place behind the wheel.

Clearing his throat, he glanced at her before easing the car onto the road. “You do look beautiful.”

Joy blossomed inside of her at the compliment. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.” 

He gave her a lopsided grin, the scar on his lip quirking up. Something fluttered inside of her as she traced the line of his lips with her eyes, even as her head shouted at her to snap out of it. 

They didn’t speak for several minutes after that exchange as they drove toward the estate. They hadn’t exactly left off in Haven on good terms. They hadn’t spoken at all since their brief exchange in the tavern. The morning after she’d stumbled across him and… that other woman. Ariana felt her cheeks flush at the memory.

_Not the time_, she reminded herself. Again. Although she knew it would be in vain. 

“How did you find your journey, Commander?”

He glanced at her out of the side of his eye, keeping his focus mostly on the road in front of him. “Uneventful. To be honest, I expected more out of my first visit to Orlais.”

“You’ve never been to Orlais before?” Her mouth dropped open into an o of surprise. His eyes flickered over to her lips for a brief moment before he snapped them back to the road.

“No. No reason to. I’d never even left Ferelden until I arrived in Kirkwall.” 

“But that was more than ten years ago!”

He glanced at her in surprise. “How did you know that?”

“I…” Ariana captured her lip between her teeth as she glanced toward him. “I kept track of those things. Kirkwall had a Circle.”

“Right.” She stared at his hands, entranced by the way he gripped the steering wheel, his strong hands wrapped around the wheel, fingers curling. Maker, his hands were beautiful. Why hadn't she noticed that before? 

He cleared his throat and she tore her gaze away, leaning her head back against the headrest with a sigh. “May I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” 

She slid her eyes over toward him. His gaze remained locked on the road. “Is there a reason you came to Orlais instead of sending someone else? Surely there is some second or third son of an aristocrat in your army who could—”

“No. There wasn’t,” he cut her off.

“No one? You sent Jim and Albert with us, I am certain that—”

“Not anyone I trust. There is far more happening across Thedas than you are aware, Bann. I am here because it was necessary. You do understand who we’re dealing with, don’t you?”

Ariana lifted her eyebrows at him. “Then one should think an actual templar would be better suited for this assignment.”

He worked his jaw in annoyance, before frowning deeply. “I am not going to explain my decisions to you.”

She frowned back at him. After several long moments, she sighed, “Must we always be at each other’s throats like this?”

“I hope not.” He cast a glance in her direction. “But you are accustomed to being in charge. It's an adjustment to not be any longer.”

“Oh is that what is going on here? A power struggle?”

“Bann Trevelyan.” He gave her an exasperated look. “As part of the Inquisition, you must accept that you will not always have all the information, you will not make decisions, and you will never have the final say.”

“Indeed?” He’d never been quite so direct with her. Of course he would have to be. He commanded an army, and before that, one of the largest garrisons of templars in the Free Marches. But he’d always been uncertain with her. Perhaps she was finally getting a glimpse of the real Cullen Rutherford. “Is that a challenge, Commander?” 

“What? Maker, no. It’s not—” He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m not doing this. It’s not up for negotiation. You will accept it.”

She turned toward the window to watch the countryside. She’d been annoyed when he’d restricted her to the village, insisting guards accompany her outside the gates. She’d interpreted as being caged, but now she wondered whether it was a cage at all. Perhaps instead he’d clipped her wings and all she was was a once free bird who was no longer capable of flight.

Cullen turned the car onto a private road and the shape of the Ghislain Estate rose in the distance.

The intensity of the icy glare she gave him was matched only by her tone. “The Inquisition does not own me.” 

“Bann—” 

Ariana interrupted him before he could say anything further. “Come, let’s not quarrel any longer. We have a party to attend,” she said with a lightness she did not feel. She shoved whatever emotions he’d inspired deep inside of her. If she were to properly play the Game tonight, she couldn’t afford to let him distract her like this. She needed to focus on what she was here to do.

They fell into silence as they waited in a line of cars. When they finally reached the entrance, a masked valet opened the passenger door and held his hand out to Ariana. She realized at once her mistake. She’d forgotten her mask. 

“Oh for the love of Andraste,” she cursed under her breath. She stepped out of the car, waiting for Cullen to come around and join her.

“Is everything all right?” He asked, concern in his eyes. She placed her hand on his arm and turned toward the entrance.

“I forgot my mask.”

“And that’s… bad?”

She gave him a look of exasperation before remembering he’d never been to Orlais. She sighed as they stepped through the main doorway, “Very bad, but too late to turn back now.”

Guests stared at them as they made their way through the crowd into the ballroom. As far as she could tell, their host was nowhere to be seen.

She’d knew their host could be somewhat eccentric. Everyone knew. The woman would only appear when she was good and ready. Sometimes she would greet her guests at the door. Other times she’d never make an appearance, leaving everyone on pins and needles for the entire night.

The room was large, far larger than she’d envisioned. Despite the number of people milling about, it still looked sparse and empty. There were a handful of couples already dancing, even given the somewhat early hour. 

Ariana scanned the crowd. Not seeing anyone she needed to speak with, she turned toward the commander. “Would you like to dance with me?”

“No, I don’t dance.” His response was immediate, almost without thought. Ariana winced at his abruptness. Another rejection for her to remember. For all the want in his eyes, he wouldn’t even touch her. 

She lifted her chin and turned to survey the room again, keeping the irritation rising within her at bay. At seeing her reaction, he added softly, “Thank you, though.”

A moment later, he excused himself to do a security sweep and check in with Cassandra about her sister’s arrival. She knew they weren’t here in a social capacity, but that thought didn’t lessen the sting of his refusal.

Ariana couldn’t figure out why she cared. The man both infuriated her and turned her on in equal measure. She often couldn’t decide whether to push his buttons, or unbutton them. Her reaction to him been immediate and visceral, but it had continued to grow. So much so that he was all that she could think about at times.

For Andraste’s sake, he was only a man. One single man. There were plenty of more suitable options out there. Titled men with respectable jobs who weren’t leading a fringe rebellion... Maybe that was it. She’d learned enough about herself in the past half a decade to know she had a fondness for men who fought against the establishment. If they were blond and a military man, all the better.

That had to be it. That and four years since her last affair that was more than a one off. She hadn’t thought much about it, but she hadn’t needed to until now. Now that one infuriating man managed to be distracting her from everything. 

“Ariana?” Her heart flipped at the rolled r, the sound instantly transporting her home. Her eyes shot toward the tall, elegant man standing in front of her. She had been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed him approach.

“Sebastian!” In less time than it took her to speak his name, she was in his open arms, squeezing him tight. Several gasps escaped the crowd around them at her lack of decorum, but Ariana didn’t care.

He chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Aye, sister. I did not expect to find you here.” 

“I could say the same for you, Starkhaven.” She squeezed him one last time before letting him go.

He held her at arms length as he inspected her. She was bursting with joy at having encountered Sebastian, in Orlais of all places. Although, if he was in Orlais… 

Panic roiled through her. “Why... why are you here? Has something happened?”

“_Dinna fash_. All is well. I am here seeking aid for Kirkwall.” 

Ariana let out a sigh of relief, the tension that had briefly overtaken her body released at the comfort of his words. It had been more than ten years since both of their lives had been uprooted on that fateful day. Uprooted then intertwined in ways they’d never imagined. 

He continued, “Rumor has it you located your sister? And she is with the Inquisition?”

“All true. I found her after all this time. And… well, it has been longer than I realized,” Ariana sighed. “She will be here tonight if you would like to see her.”

“Aye, I should like that very much. It has been too long. And too long since I’ve seen you, Ariana. Tell me, how have you been since we last met?” 

Sebastian’s hand lingered on her elbow, keeping the connection, giving her strength. She took a deep breath and answered him truthfully, looking up into his crystal, blue eyes. “I’m not sure. The Inquisition is not what I… expected, but I do think it will improve with time. I hope.”

“Have you considered my offer?”

“Of course I have, but I couldn’t possibly. What business do I have advising the Prince of Starkhaven on how to govern? Especially when your future princess has already served as Viscountess of Kirkwall.”

“You are Bann of Southwatch.”

“An agricultural bannorn is no match for a trade empire. You are the rightful heir. Neither you, nor the city, owe me anything.” 

He gave her an even look. “Very well, but I hope you know you are always welcome at Starkhaven.” 

Ariana squeezed his hand, intertwining her fingers in his as she smiled up at him. “Thank you, brother. That means the world to me.”

“Excuse me, Bann Trev— Sebastian Vael?” Ariana took a deep breath before turning around to face the bewildered commander of the Inquisition. 

His eyes darted between the two Marchers, narrowing at their intimate stance and intertwined hands. Ariana could almost see his thoughts as he tried to put together how exactly they knew each other. 

“Cullen?” Sebastian laughed, a loud laugh that surely made the Orlesians roll their eyes and gossip all the harder. “Maker, I’d wondered how you were holding up!” 

He released Ariana and reached out to take hold of Cullen’s hand, the other landing on the man’s back. Cullen stiffened as Sebastian pulled him in for a hug.

When Sebastian finally released him, Ariana addressed Cullen, keeping her voice light. “I hope you were successful, Commander. My sister should arrive at any moment.”

Cullen opened his mouth to respond, but Sebastian spoke first. “Not Knight-Commander?”

He shifted his eyes toward Sebastian as he shook his head. “Only Commander now. I am no longer with the Order.”

Sebastian appraised him with lifted eyebrows. “I had heard you left Kirkwall, but not the Templars.”

“Commander Cullen leads the Inquisition forces,” Ariana told him, as she caught a glimpse of a blond head bobbing its way through the crowd. “In fact, you two should speak about the matter we were discussing, Seb. About Kirkwall.”

Leliana hadn’t been certain that Jean-Luc would be in attendance this evening, he wasn’t the most welcome with this crowd these days, but as the figure moved closer, she knew it was him. Relief flooded through her. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, there is someone I must speak with.”

Before either of them could object, she drifted away, moving into the path of the Orlesian man she’d spotted.

“Bann Trevelyan,” he purred as he approached, his fawn brown eyes both curious and disinterested as they perused her body. The golden half mask he wore highlighted the golden flecks in his eyes, dancing in the lowlight of the ballroom. Beneath the mask, his mouth twisted into a smirk.

“Your Grace.” She dropped into a formal curtsey.

He smiled as he returned a bow of his own, rows of perfect, white teeth gleaming. Whispers started up around them as he took her hand in his own, kissing the back of her palm in a refined gesture.

He hadn’t changed at all, even though it had been at least a few years since she’d last seen him. He was still the perfectly polished, well-bred aristocrat she’d met all those years ago. And hopefully, if all went according to plan, she could both gather intel and relieve some of the mounting pressure another blond man with golden eyes had roused in her.

“Dance with me?” He asked. Although it was more as a formality as he whisked her onto the dance floor before she could utter a word in response. She’d always appreciated Jean-Luc’s spontaneity. He had a zest for life and passion for squeezing the most out of every moment that had, quite literally, reminded her how to live again.

The memories of that first summer surfaced as he twirled her around the dance floor. She would always remember him fondly for all that he’d done for her. And all he’d continued to do.

Jean-Luc dipped her low toward the floor as the song ended. The room erupted into applause. To the delight of the onlookers, the two of them took a theatrical bow once he had her back on her feet. 

With the performance of their reunion now over, Jean-Luc pulled her back into his arms for a slower dance. One hand urged her body closer to his as he whispered in her ear. “It it delightful to see you, _petite colombe_,” he murmured in Orlesian. 

Little dove. The name he’d given the listless shell of a young woman he’d encountered one day on the beach. She hadn’t been surprised when he sought her out the next day. And the next. Not because she expected him, but rather because she didn’t care. 

In those days, she hadn’t felt anything at all.

“Tell me who put such a happy smile on your beautiful mouth,” he continued, pulling her closer to him until their bodies were flush against one another.

“Only happy to have been reunited with my sister, that is all.”

“Not a man then?” Although he said it playfully, there was a tension in his voice that she hadn’t heard before. An odd jealous note. He’d not looked away from her even once, but she could tell he was surveying the room from the side of his eyes.

By the way he kept an eye on a particular part of the room, she knew he’d marked at least one person, even as they drifted around the room with the music. Ariana let her gaze wander until she found the person he’d been watching. Cullen Rutherford was staring, rather brazenly for an Orlesian party, at the two of them with narrowed eyes.

The hand splayed across her lower back, pulling her tight against him made more sense now. The annoyed glare in the commander’s eyes told him he’d received Jean-Luc’s message loud and clear. 

Although the more Ariana thought about it, the more irritated she got with the man. He had no right to be unhappy with her. Not over this. Not when he’d rejected her. More than once, as recently as an hour ago. To the void with him.

“Tonight there is no man but you.” 

At her words, the hand on her back slipped lower still and his teeth grazed her ear in a featherlight nip. Her eyelashes fluttered as a frisson of delight moved down her body. 

“Only tonight?”

“You want _more_? Are you going soft on me, Jean-Luc?”

She felt his lips curve into a smile. “You were always the one that got away.”

“You, my lord, are shameless," she chastised.

He twirled her under his arm before pulling her back in, closer than they’d been before, although Ariana didn’t know how that was possible. “Perhaps it’s taken me eight years to realize it.”

“And perhaps we should see where the night goes before you take that thought any further.” 

“Little dove, you know exactly where this night will go.” He leaned in close and murmured all the erotic plans he had for her as soon as he’d gotten her alone. Of course, they weren’t only words. She’d known him long enough to know he’d make every one of them come true, if given the chance. 

When the song finally ended, Jean-Luc intertwined his fingers with hers and led her away from the dance floor where they were swallowed up by the crowd.

***

Cullen blinked at the spot from where Ariana disappeared. Anger and disgust rose up within him as he thought about the bann slipping into some dark corner with that Orlesian and... and what would come next.

He’d seen the way the man wrapped his arm around her, pulling her body against his. He’d seen the way Ariana’s cheeks heated at his whispers in her ear and the way she shivered at the promise of what was to come next. 

Maker, he should have danced with her, no matter how ridiculous he looked doing it. Whenever he was in her presence, he could barely function as a normal human being. Were it any other woman, he could make her flush like that in the middle of the ballroom, but Ariana Trevelyan was not any woman.

She was the woman who starred in his fantasies and his dreams. Dreams he shouldn’t be having of a future that would never be his. He shouldn’t want her as much as he did. But at least the guilt of wanting her had passed.

He’d met with Mother Giselle again. Confession wasn’t a requirement for templars to partake in, but Cullen had been unable to cope anymore in solitude. If he wanted to get his addiction under control, he needed help. Too much had happened for him to grapple with it alone. 

He hadn’t told the revered mother everything. There were things he would never tell another living soul. The Maker knew, and that was enough for him. But what little of his weaknesses he did share, Mother Giselle had not judged him for. She’d reminded him of the imperfections of humanity, and of the Maker’s grace despite their flaws.

He took several slow breaths, reciting several short prayers as he did so to get his thoughts of her under control. Once he had, he noticed Sebastian had lapsed into silence next to him, his icy blue eyes assessing the crowd around them. 

Cullen cleared his throat. “Do you know the bann well?”

A smile spread across Sebastian’s face and a tenderness appeared in his eyes. “Aye, Starkhaven and Southwatch are practically neighbors by Marcher standards. Our families knew each other well.”

“You grew up together then?”

“Not quite. She was fifteen years my junior.” 

Sebastian didn’t elaborate, so Cullen tried again. “Were you close?” 

“We are now. She’s all the family I have left.”

“Family?” The word slipped out before Cullen could stop himself. He regretted asking the question immediately at the dark look that came over Sebastian’s face. 

“Maker knows she’d have been a better Vael than most who bear the name.” Sebastian’s words were flat as his gaze focused on something distant, a haunted look passing over his strong features. 

Cullen knew that look. It was a look he had seen in the mirror many times over the years. The man’s eyes were hollow, haunted by the ghosts of the past that still hung heavy over whatever memories this conversation had disturbed.

He shouldn’t ask. He really shouldn’t. But he did anyway. “What do you mean by that?”

Sebastian refocused his attention on Cullen. “Why are you so interested in her?”

“Curiosity.” Cullen shrugged in an attempt to appear more nonchalant than he was feeling. Sebastian’s words didn’t make sense, but it was obvious he didn’t want to go further down that trail of thought. He scrambled for something else to ask about, something he hoped Sebastian would be happier to discuss. “How is Hawke?”

“Why do you ask?”

Wrong again. 

“Uh… I thought…” Cullen stammered, floundering at the defensive tone in the Prince of Starkhaven’s voice. “Are you and she no longer…?”

“She’s still my fiancée, if that’s what you’re asking. But you can tell that Seeker of yours that I haven’t seen her.”

Right. Cassandra approached Sebastian when she was in Kirkwall, attempting to recruit Hawke to the Inquisition. Unable to locate her, Cassandra had left the Marches empty handed. It was in Kirkwall that she had offered Cullen this position and a purpose beyond the Templar Order. 

“Do you really think Seeker Pentaghast is still looking for her?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian admitted, “but I’m not about to help her be found. I haven’t heard from her in... awhile. She’s been following up on something related to the Grey Wardens, that’s all I know.”

“The Grey Wardens?” Unease settled over him at the mention of the paramilitary force. It was a name he hadn’t heard in years and was one he’d be happy to not hear again for the rest of his life. Grey Wardens surfaced only when catastrophe loomed. “Why is she interested in them?”

Sebastian shrugged. “You know that Anders was her friend, I assume there is some—”<

“Anders is dead.” Cullen interrupted more sharply than he’d intended. That apostate was someone he did not want to think about right now. Could not think about right now.

“Of that, I am aware.” Sebastian’s tone was flat as his pale blue eyes clouded over once more. 

Cullen may not have been there in the immediate aftermath of the Chantry explosion when Marian put a bullet through the back of her once-friend, but he had been there for what came next on that dark day. 

The glowing red eyes of his knight-commander still haunted his nightmares. 

Had Marian not had the strength and presence of mind to stand up to her, Cullen may not have found the strength to do so either. He tried not to dwell on what might have happened, the nightmares did that well enough for him. He shuddered as he thought of the demons that haunted his sleep, showing him grotesque displays of what might have been had he not woken up.

A familiar sense of panic began to rise within him, the world feeling as though it were closing around him. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, his heart knowing the lines of the Chant that his mind had forgotten. The familiar words had written themselves there, the breathing meditation that he held onto in the darkest of days. He focused on his breath that that sensation of the air leaving his lungs and reentering. 

The musicians played a light and cheerful tune, the bright music invading the darkness that threatened to overtake him. After a few moments, Cullen opened his eyes. Nothing had changed in the room around him. In fact, no one had even noticed. Even Sebastian, who still had a thousand mile stare in his eyes. 

Cullen commented on the weather, the food, and the music before he got the man’s attention. Once he’d done so, they returned to the topic of the rebuilding efforts in Kirkwall. Cullen was pleased to learn Sebastian had continued a number of techniques they’d tried and found success with previously. The methods had shortened the rebuilding time by years in some instances, which would benefit any community affected by war. 

Cullen promised to bring the prince’s request for additional aid to the rest of the Inquisition’s advisory council.

As though their conversation summoned her, the Herald appeared at the entrance to the ballroom. Alone, he noted, which she should not have been. He wondered where Cassandra and Varric had gone. 

Sebastian was already on the move when the Herald’s eyes landed on Cullen. Her entire face lit up. Before she could take a step, Sebastian reached her and kneeled down. The room went perfectly silent as even the musicians craned their necks to see what was happening. 

The whispers that rose up around him gossiped about the Prince of Starkhaven, widely known to be a most devout Andrastian, bending his knee to the Herald of Andraste in such a public way. 

Trevelyan looked surprised to see him kneeling in front of her, but she covered it well. She motioned for him to stand and whispered something to him, before signaling Cullen to join them.

“Where is Cassandra?” He asked when he reached her, irritated at the fact she’d been left alone here. Maybe the one place that she would be truly vulnerable.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted as the three of them exited the ballroom and made their way to a quiet hallway.

When they were finally alone, Sebastian swept Trevelyan into his arms and spun her around.

“By the light of the Maker!” He exclaimed as he took her head between his hands and got a good look at her, turning her face to see the color of her eyes in the dim light. “What happened?”

“You don’t know?”

“Nay. I heard rumors that a woman, a mage, fell out of the Fade but I… I didn’t…”

She gave him a half smile, tucking her arm around his waist. “It still surprises me too, whenever I see myself in a mirror.”

“Are you well? Ariana didn’t say—”

“Ariana?” She fixed her intense gaze on Cullen. “Where is my sister? She was with you, was she not?”

Cullen shifted his weight, his arms crossed across his chest. “Not… exactly.”

“Then locate her. When you do, please inform her that I’m leaving.”<

“Of course, Herald.”

“Sebastian can take me back to the inn. I’ll see you tomorrow.”<

Cullen strode back toward the ballroom, following the direction he’d seen the bann and the Orlesian heading when they disappeared from the dance floor,

***

Music floated through the open window. Ariana sat on the edge of the bed while Jean-Luc buttoned the back of her gown. 

Task complete, he turned her to face him. She could barely make out the angular features of his handsome face in the moonlight. The strong jawline and sharp nose she’d traced so often all those years ago and in the years since.

"You are a dream," he purred, running a hand down her cheek. 

She grazed her lips along his as her phone lit up and began buzzing from the side table. She ignored it, running her hands through his hair as she deepened the kiss.

When they finally broke apart, he leaned back against the pillows piled on the bed. “Will I see you again?” His voice was tinged with hope and his fingers trailed down her arm, as though he did not want the moment to end.

“Perhaps. If I am in Val Royeaux,” she responded noncommittally reaching toward the side table. As her hand hovered over her phone to pick it up, it lit up again, the buzzing loud in the quiet aftermath of their intimacy.

“Your lover?” Jean-Luc teased, the same edge from earlier slipping into his voice.

“No.” She felt a fluttering in her chest at the name flashing across the screen. Her heart shouldn't beat so loudly, so quickly, at the thought of him. Not right now. She hoped Jean-Luc hadn't noticed.

He kissed her cheek one last time as she slid off the bed, scooping up her shoes on the way to the door. A new text alert flashed on the screen as she opened the door and slipped out into the quiet hallway.

“For the love of Andraste,” she grumbled at the phone, not even bothering to read the text before she dismissed the notification. 

“If you wouldn’t ignore them, I wouldn’t have to send so many.” She jumped at the sound of the commander’s voice, not having seen him standing at the top of the stairs.

She shoved her phone in the pocket of her dress and glared at him. “I was otherwise engaged.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” he drawled as he watched her.

“What do you want?” She asked, balancing on one foot to slide on one of her shoes.

“Your sister left. She asked me to let you know.”

“That’s all? A text would have sufficed.”

“No, clearly it wouldn’t. You didn’t read them. Any of them. Nor would I leave you here.”

She rolled her eyes as she lifted her bare foot to slip on her other shoe. Seeing her wobble as she attempted to balance, Cullen stepped toward, grasping her forearm to steady her. She suppressed the shudder that ran through her at his nearness, the way his hand felt through the soft fabric of her sleeve. “I am perfectly safe.” 

“You keep saying that, but you are not ‘perfectly safe’ anywhere. Leaving you at a party in Orlais is not an option. Not when it’s my job to protect you.”

She shrugged out of his grip as she lifted her chin, defiance flashing in her eyes. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need, or want, your assistance. Or you.” Ariana didn’t know what made her say the last two words, except that some twisted, childish part of her wanted them to hurt. Wanted him to hurt. To get back at him, in whatever way she could.

He set his mouth in a firm line, tension creasing his forehead. “I’m here for your sister, not you. There are a hundred other things—more important things—I could have been doing instead of waiting for you to get your end away with some... Orlesian!”

Ariana’s mouth dropped open at the spite in his words as he stalked away from her, down the stairs toward the front of the estate. She chased after him, as quickly as her heeled shoes allowed, but when she reached the bottom of the stairs he was halfway down the hall. 

“How dare you,” she hissed at him, the sound traveling down the hallway. He stopped, turning slowly to watch her approach. She was seething by the time she reached him. “You have no idea what I was doing.”

Cullen’s eyes raked up her body, lingering on her hair before he met her eyes. They were angry, dark and flashing, in the dimly lit hallway. “What you were doing is obvious. The question is who?”

“And I suppose that’s part of your job, too, is it?” She took a step toward him. “Knowing who I fuck?”

He stood his ground as she approached. “If it affects the Inquisition, then yes!”

Ariana couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She glared at him. “Are you serious right now? Maker, I cannot—”

“We cannot afford a scandal. We don’t have the political capital to survive one.”

“And what makes you think it would be?”

“Anyone could have seen you!”

She let out a sharp laugh. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He glared back at her with narrowed eyes.

“It means you don’t get to judge me for that when you’re fucking women behind the chantry!” She spat.

He went completely still as he stared at her. Tension hung thick in the air between them and each breath felt heavy in her lungs. Her eyes skimmed his face, looking for any emotion, any thought, anything, but he simply stood in front of her.

She stepped closer toward him, close enough to feel the heat of his body, and took several deep breaths. His nostrils flared as her eyes held his for several long moments. Words hovered on the tip of her tongue. Cruel words meant to put him in his place. Words that could never be unspoken. Words that had no bearing and no relevance on except to inflict a maximum amount of pain.

Ariana took a slow, deep breath as dismay replaced her fury. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t an impetuous, angry person. She maintained control. Except around him, apparently.

She shook her head as she took a step back. She held his gaze for several moments longer before brushing past him toward the front of the house. She hadn't even realized he’d followed her until he reached around her to hand the keys to the valet.

They didn’t speak. Not while they waited and not when the car arrived. The only sounds were those of the engine as it roared down the empty roads on the entire drive back to the inn. 

She studied him out of the side of her eye, replaying their conversation in her head. Maybe she had been harsh in her words, harsher than she should have been, but he’d pushed her there. Hadn’t he? He’d been unreasonable, but Ariana couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d been unfair in what she’d said. It had been intended to hurt. Again. Maker, she couldn't control herself around him.

They pulled into a parking spot and Cullen turned the car off. Ariana had an overwhelming sense of dread rush through her. She couldn’t leave it like this, not when it may be some time before they saw each other again. She had to say something. Anything to fix this.

As he reached for the door handle, Ariana placed her hand on his arm. “Please wait.” 

He did not look at her, but watched her out of the side of his eye. He kept his hand on the door handle. She rushed out the words before he—or she—changed their mind. “Commander, I owe you an apology. My words were unnecessary and unkind. Please forgive me.”

When she finished speaking, he opened the car door and stepped out. 

As the door closed behind him, Ariana let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Disappointment washed over her, but it was no less than she deserved. Unbuckling her seat belt, she reached for her door at the same time it opened. 

Cullen held out a hand to help her out of the car. She took it, lifting her eyes to meet his. She kept her hand in his, hopeful, as she stood in front of him, close enough to feel the heat of his body in the coolness of the summer night. His scent wrapped around her, both comforting and tantalizing. She inhaled, trying to imprint the smell in her mind.

When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. “If anyone should be apologizing, it is I. Your private business is your own. I don’t know what came over me and… I am sorry.”

She let out a slow breath. “Truce then?”

He gave her a cautious nod as he moved the hand he still held to his elbow and walked alongside her into the inn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Dinna fash_ \- (Scots) Don’t worry  
_Petite colombe _ \- (French) Little dove


	6. Chapter 6

He’d given Varric the keys to the sedan that morning, opting to ride with Cassandra in one of the sport utility vehicles. Jim, their driver, was one of his most trustworthy soldiers, so it would be the perfect opportunity to speak to her in as private a space as he could get.

Until the previous evening, he hadn’t fully put together the pieces of the night he last used lyrium. Fragments of memories had haunted him over the previous weeks, but it was Ariana’s words that jarred the memories loose and helped them fall into place.

He was embarrassed and ashamed at falling back into old habits. Lyrium and faceless women to fill the aching hole inside of him that couldn't believe he was enough.

The words bounced around inside him, voices of the nightmares reminding him of who he really was... Unloveable. Undeserving. Unworthy.

_You are as worthy of love as the rest of us_, Leliana had told him. He didn't know why those words often echoed in his head. There was something about them, some kernel of truth, that he clung to as though a lifeboat on a sinking ship. Something keeping him afloat when he felt as though he had no choice but to go under.

Knowing what he now knew of that night solidified his conviction that he had to free himself from the chains of this addiction, no matter the cost. 

Cullen cleared his throat into the quiet car. “Seeker, there is… something I wish to discuss.” 

Jim looked at him in the rearview mirror, giving Cullen a slight nod before shifting his eyes back to the road ahead of them. His acknowledgement that whatever was said here would be close hold. 

“What do you need?” She asked, looking up from the tablet she was reading. Her face flushed as she locked it and laid it on her lap, giving him her full attention.

“You know that when I left the Templars last year I have tried, and failed, to give up lyrium.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Failed? It’s a process, you know that.”

“I’ve lessened my reliance, but…” He hesitated, his mouth dry at the words he was about to say. “I have decided to stop. Entirely.”

“Commander, that’s never been tested. You don’t know what the lyrium could—”

“I wished to speak with you about it,” he interrupted, “Because as a Seeker you can evaluate the danger. More importantly, whether or not I am fit to continue as commander.”

She let out a breath of air, directed at the pieces of her short hair that hung in her eyes. “That won’t be necessary.”

“But if it is, you will recommend a replacement?” He pressed.

Cassandra set her jaw. “Will you trust my judgment? No matter the consequences?”

“Yes.”

“Then I accept.” 

Cullen let out his own breath in relief at her agreement. Her support would ensure that the Inquisition would not be affected negatively by his decision. The decision to go off lyrium entirely was selfish, but it was one he had to make if he had any hope of a normal life someday. 

He’d never much considered what his life might be outside of the Templar Order until he left. Even still, it was hard to imagine much beyond the Inquisition. But once the Inquisition had served it purpose, there would be time for a new life.

“Did something happen?” Cassandra was still looking at him in concern.

“Two weeks ago, the night before you returned from the Hinterlands, I thought the templars and mages might brawl. I could handle that, but with Chancellor Roderick…” 

Cassandra let out a disgusted noise, but he merely sighed, turning to stare out the window at the lush Orlesian countryside that rolled by them. “I used and it had no outlet. No place to go. I blacked out.”

“And?”

“And nothing.” He shrugged and gave her a tight smile. “The next morning I had a hangover and, well, you saw me. It wasn’t my finest moment. I cannot afford distractions.”

Cassandra studied him for a moment before she spoke, “May the Maker guide your steps, Commander.”

They sat in silence for a while afterwards, each of the two military leaders staring out their respective windows, each leaving the other to their own thoughts. It wasn’t long before Cassandra opened back up her tablet and lost herself in it once more.

But Cullen continued to watch the countryside rolling by, wondering who he would choose to be, the life he would choose to lead, if he was given the chance to start over. He'd never thought much beyond the Order and, now, beyond the Inquisition.

Hope whispered on his heart like a soft prayer. Whatever it was, whatever possibilities existed for him, he would prove himself worthy of that future.

***

Their party arrived in Val Royeaux by late afternoon. The warm sun bathed the city on the sea in a golden light that made it look otherworldly. Hundreds of sailboat masts jutted out of the water, giving the city a nautical feel. They were staying at a modern hotel on the waterfront, the sleek glass structure giving them unobstructed views to the sea. Despite the size of the Orlesian capital, it was a serene, peaceful place. Nothing like Kirkwall.

Cullen checked them all in, making note of the others’ room numbers. The bann had taken a suite on one of the upper floors, whereas the rest were in basic singles on lower floors. After a quick chat with Cassandra, she agreed that at least one of them should be near her, in case of emergency, and moved her own room to be on the same floor as the noblewoman.

As the two soldiers made their way to the elevator, they decided to meet in several hours for dinner. Cassandra spent many years in the city as the Right Hand of the Divine and Cullen suspected she’d taken pity on him for his first visit to Val Royeaux.

His phone pinged with an incoming message right as he stepped out of the shower. Towel held tightly around his waist, he padded across the room to check the message. Messages. They were short and simple, but Cullen did double check the phone number to make sure he wasn't misunderstanding.

> _A. Trevelyan: _Rm 1201  
_A. Trevelyan_: 15 mins

Room 1201 was indeed the bann's room, as he well knew from earlier. He wondered why she wanted him to come up in fifteen minutes. He considered calling Cassandra to ask her to check in, but decided against it. Instead, he tapped out a response letting her know he’d be there. 

He was curious about what she wanted and he wanted to spend time with her. He was undeserving of her apology the night before. He didn't even know what had come over him except that knowing what she'd been doing… 

He'd been jealous, plain and simple, and he had no right to be. 

Cullen knew he could not allow himself to hope that there had been anything at all between them, much less that there could ever be more. Whatever fantasies he’d entertained would remain that. He would have to live and work alongside her as any other member of the Inquisition. 

Cullen dressed for dinner in a casual grey suit, sans tie, and left a few buttons at the top of shirt undone. He studied himself in the mirror and deciding to play it safe, changed it to only one button undone.

He was as ready as he would ever be. Time to see what this was about.

When Ariana opened the door on his second knock, Cullen felt the air whoosh out of his lungs. He thought, for at least the hundredth time since he’d met her, that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. 

She wore a long-sleeved, floor length black dress, but the front was cut in a deep v, almost down to her waist. Her black hair was pulled off her face in an intricate design of braids. He’d seen similar looks on the nobility of Kirkwall. It looked complicated.

“Perfect timing. Come in.” 

_Perfect timing for what? _He wondered as he followed her through the living area of the suite, out onto a covered balcony overlooking the sea. The only furniture was a divan with a side table pulled in front of it. A small laptop sat open on the table, but he couldn’t see what was on the screen in the glare of the late afternoon sun. 

As Ariana took a seat, Cullen discovered that her dress wasn’t only low cut, but had a slit almost all the way up her leg. She held his gaze in a challenge as she crossed her legs and the black fabric of her dress fell open.

“Have a seat.” She gestured to the empty space next to her and turned back toward the screen. He risked a glance down and regretted it immediately when he glimpsed the entirety of her smooth, golden brown leg.

_Maker’s breath_.

Cullen snapped his eyes back up to her face, determined to keep them there. He tugged at the neck of his collar, needing some space to breath. He considered undoing the second button again.

“Commander!” The speakers on the computer came to life. “How is Orlais?” 

Cullen peered at the screen as he made his way next to Ariana, easing himself down next to her on the divan, careful to keep some distance between them. 

“Leliana? It’s, ah… lovely.” He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t their spymaster on the other end of a video call.

“The party last night sounded like a delight! Bann Trevelyan filled me in on most of the details.” Cullen glanced over at the woman. She was watching him out of the side of her eye as she stared intently at the laptop screen. “I’ve asked her to repeat some of the information she gave me as it may be of interest to you.”

Ariana took a deep breath, then turned to look at him as she began speaking, “The majority of Orlesian troops are still in the southeast, but Celene recently moved several companies of chevaliers away from the Exalted Plains.”

“Away from the Plains?” Cullen propped his elbows on his knees as he asked, “To where?”

“The northern border. Activity in Tevinter has given the empress cause for concern, no doubt.”

Leliana piped up from the computer, “My spies are getting independent verification of the information, of course, but it is curious.” 

Moving troops to the northern border. That was interesting. They hadn’t received any concerning reports from the area, but if Celene was moving troops… “And Gaspard?”

“Still focused on the Plains for the most part. Now that Celene has reduced her numbers, he’ll likely make some headway. Although… there are also rumors of unusual activity in the area.”

“What kind of unusual activity?”

Ariana shrugged. “It could be more rifts like those opening up around Ferelden, or it could be something else.”

“I’m looking into that as well,” Leliana added.

Cullen stared at the woman in front of him. For all the sides of Ariana Trevelyan he’d seen, this was a new one. Although he shouldn’t be surprised. She’d been an active part of the mage underground, of course intelligence work made sense. “Where did you get this information?” 

A loud bang sounded from the computer speaker. “Oh, there is something that needs my attention. I’ll see you both in a few days!” Leliana rushed off screen before the call disconnected.

Cullen turned back to Ariana. She focused on closing down the laptop and pointedly ignoring his question. “Well?” He pressed.

“You already know the answer to that.”

She was right. Cullen did know. He knew it was from the Orlesian man whose name she wouldn’t give him. “Then will you tell me who he is?”

“Duke Jean-Luc Bechalet of Savrenne, royal nephew.” Ariana held his gaze as she stated the information impassively. As though it were merely another report. “Recently promoted to grandmaster chevalier.”

It wasn’t only the title, the relation, or the rank that had Cullen’s eyebrows shooting up in surprise, but rather all three combined. No one needed to inform him how valuable this connection would be for the Inquisition. Perhaps one that would open the doors they so sorely needed opened.

“Which army?”

“Gaspard’s,” she shrugged. “At present.”

The slight twitch of her lips told him she had more to say. He waited for her to continue, but she stared back at him. “At present?”

As Ariana spoke, she led him toward the banister to look out over the sea. “If you ask the _haut monde_, they’ll tell you Jean-Luc is elegant... Whimsical… Sensual—”she paused at the wince that passed over his face—“but also frivolous, shallow, and capricious.”

Cullen thought of what little he’d seen of the man the previous night. A jealous flare gripped him as he thought of the way the man’s hand slid down Ariana’s back and his lips moved at her ear. There was more to it than that though. The man had known exactly how to elicit a response from Ariana, from Cullen, and from the ballroom full of people. They’d been charmed by him. All of them. 

“Then they’re fools.”

“Some of them, yes.” The edge of her mouth lifted in amusement. “It’s all part of the Game. What they say and what they know to be true are two very different things.”

“This is why I don’t involve myself in politics,” Cullen groaned.

“Commander, I tell you this to help you understand. Jean-Luc is the beloved nephew of both House Valmont and the de Chalons, even if only one is by blood. He is skilled in both politics and warfare. And given his place of favor, he is the harbinger of which way the winds blow.”

“And that’s what you were doing last night? Seeing which way the winds blow? Why wouldn’t Leliana warn me?”

“I asked her not to tell anyone unless they needed to know. Now you know.” 

“I am so sorry. I should not have—”

“No, don’t.” She waved her hand in front of her to stop him. “Your assumptions were correct. Besides, you’ve already apologized and there is no need to rehash that part of the evening.”

Something contracted inside of him. The slight hope that she had been merely obtaining information crashed landed at her words. He gave her a tight smile that he hoped didn’t come out as another wince. “All right. If that’s all…?”

“It’s not. Are you returning to Haven tomorrow?”

He paused. “I am.”

“May I travel with you? My sister has changed her plans.”

He lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “I hadn’t heard that.”

“It was recent, another _mysterious _message.” The way she said mysterious had Cullen thinking the bann wasn’t all too happy with this change in plans. Just as well. He couldn’t risk getting the wrong idea about what she was asking.

“Be ready by seven,” he told her. “There’s a morning ferry to Jader.”

Her eyes searched his face as she considered her response. When she lifted one eyebrow, he took a deep breath to prepare himself for whatever she was about to throw his way. “And if I’m late?”

“I’ll leave you here.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” 

“Yes, I would,” he chuckled. “You’d be... perfectly safe, was it?”

“So there is somewhere outside Haven I’m 'perfectly safe' on my own?”

Now it was his turn to lift an eyebrow. “I didn’t say that. Jim and Albert are here.” 

A scowl was her only response.

“I’ll see you in the morning then. Good evening, bann.” He turned toward the balcony doors. 

"Commander." Her hand on his arm stopped him. “Do you have plans for dinner?” 

“I do, why?”

“Oh.” Her face fell for a brief moment before she plastered a polite smile on her face. “I thought we might— I might... um, make a recommendation, but no matter. Enjoy your evening.”

Cullen could feel her disappointment following him as he exited through her room and made his way down to the lobby to meet Cassandra. He checked his watch in the elevator and realized he was already late. The meeting had taken longer than he’d anticipated, but Leliana was right, it was information he needed to know.

“Looking good, Curly!” The elevator doors slid open when he heard Varric’s voice from across the lobby where he stood with Cassandra and Trevelyan.

“You’re late.” Cassandra frowned at him.

“I got caught on a call from Haven,” he told them as he approached. “Where are Solas and the bann?”

“Somewhere not here,” Varric told him. “Solas at least.” 

Evelyn added, “My sister said she has plans, so it will only be the four of us.” 

“Our reservation is soon, let us go,” Cassandra said as she led them out of the hotel.

***

Cullen checked his watch, the metal hands showing him there were still ten minutes to seven. He would give her another ten after that at most, but he had been serious about leaving her in Val Royeaux. He’d already pulled the car around to the entrance of the hotel and loaded both their luggage, anxious to be on their way. Now the minutes seemed to crawl by.

At 6:55, the elevator dinged. When the doors slid open, Cullen’s stomach dropped. Standing next to Ariana, his arm wrapped casually around her waist, was the blond man from the Ghislain Estate.

Bechalet.

They made a striking couple, as different as night and day. Ariana wore dark clothing, her black hair curled loosely around her face, while Bechalet looked as though he’d stepped off a sailboat in a white shirt and khaki trousers. His blond hair was swept back as though expertly shaped by the sea breeze.

Cullen ran his hand through his own unruly curls and wondered if it would even be possible to make his hair look like that. Surely there was something that could help tame them.

The Orlesian man broke into a huge smile as they approached Cullen, extending his hand for a shake. “Delighted to meet you. And to know that my little dove is well protected in Ferelden,” his Common bore the lightest hint of an accent.

Ariana cast a warning glance in Cullen’s direction and spoke to the man briefly in Orlesian. 

Bechalet wrapped both arms around her and stared into her eyes as he responded. When the man leaned in to kiss her, Cullen turned away, unable to continue watching. He felt as though he’d intruded on a private moment between the two and was immensely uncomfortable with watching. It was obvious the other man cared a great deal for her, but that didn’t mean Cullen had endure it.

When Bechalet released Ariana and made his way to the exit, Ariana focused her attention on Cullen. “Shall we?”

He gestured toward the front door and they walked side by side to his vehicle.

"Maker, what I wouldn't give for a cup of coffee right now," she sighed. 

"Long night?" He asked over the top of the sedan.

She gave him an exasperated look before she pulled open the passenger door. 

As soon as they were seated inside, Cullen pointed to a to go cup. "For you." 

“You are a Makersend,” she told him as she reached for the cup. She lifted it and inhaled deeply before taking a tentative sip. She closed her eyes, a look of pleasure crossing her features. “Thank you for this.”

“Of course.” He gave her a half smile and pulled away from the hotel. 

“How did you know I drink black coffee?" 

He decided not to tell her the smaller cup in the other cup holder was full of cream and he had packets of sugar in his jacket pocket. “Lucky guess.”

She sighed a happy sigh as she leaned her head back against the headrest. “Does this mean we’re friends?”

He glanced over at her in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“You brought me coffee. Friends do that, right?”

“Yes, I suppose they do… Hasn’t anyone gotten you coffee before?”

“My assistants have.” 

Cullen glanced over at her, surprised by the implications. She was staring out the window as she twirled her cup in her hands. “I should like to think we are friends,” he told her.

She gave him a grateful smile as she lifted the cup to her lips and took another sip. 

They didn’t speak any further as he drove toward the ferry that would take them the short distance across the Waking Sea. Cullen disliked sea travel, but it would save them more than a day on their return, and he was needed back in Haven. 

Although they’d secured valuable intelligence on the trip, he never should have come. He’d lied when he told Ariana he wasn’t there for her. He was. When Trevelyan told him about the party invitation, he’d jumped at the opportunity. He needed to see her, needed to ensure she was safe. But that was a mistake. He should not have come.

They listened to the local news on the short drive. There was no mention of any Fade rifts opening up in the country, nor an update on the ongoing civil war between Celene and Gaspard. In fact, it was all rather cheerful. Special interest pieces on the arts and culture of the country. Bloody Orlais.

As soon as he’d put the vehicle in park on the ferry, Ariana got out of the car and hovered nearby. “Shall we go to the cafe?” 

They headed up the stairs toward the upper level. She took a seat at a table against the wall and Cullen sat down across from her. When a waiter approached their table to take their order, Ariana ordered them both coffees. Black, of course.

She quickly became engrossed in her phone, while Cullen considered the new information they’d learned over the preceding days. He considered the shifting dynamics of the Orlesian war and what a Tevinter invasion could mean for the south as a whole.

He took out his notebook and began taking notes of what to follow up on. His coffee was long gone before either of them moved.

“Commander,” Ariana was leaning across the table. She had a frantic look about her that concerned Cullen. She kept her voice low, as though she were trying to avoid being overhead, as she continued, “We have to get back to the car now.” 

“I think we still have some—”

“No, we really don’t. Let’s go.” She practically dragged him out of his seat and into the stairwell. Her entire body was tense as she rushed down the stairs and to the car. 

Once they were safely inside, Cullen turned toward her. “What happened?”

Ariana didn’t immediately respond, instead digging around in her purse until she found sunglasses. She tied her long hair back before putting them on. Once the sunglasses were covering her eyes, she pulled out her phone and made a few taps. 

He wasn’t willing to wait any longer. “Bann, if you won’t—”

“Here.” She shoved the phone into his hands before reaching into the backseat of the car, grabbing a black blazer that she slipped over her dress.

The website she’d pulled up was of a popular Orlesian tabloid with the headline “FLAME REKINDLED?” shouting from the top story. The grainy photo beneath it was from that morning at the hotel, of Bechalet’s arms around Ariana, his lips pressed to her cheek. 

He scrolled down to read the text beneath the photo: 

> _After being spotted dancing at Madame de Fer’s latest soiree Friday night, this magazine’s favorite noble couple was discovered leaving a Val Royeaux hotel at the same time this morning. They broke up more than eight years ago, but neither have seriously dated since. Could love be back in the air for these two? We hope most fervently._

Cullen groaned, “You said it wasn’t a scandal.”

“It’s not!” She insisted. 

Her phone lit up, indicating an incoming video call from Josephine. Ariana snatched her phone out of his hand and answered the call, angling it so the ambassador could see him in the camera. 

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?” Ariana asked as Josephine appeared on the screen.

“You’ve seen it then?” Josephine asked.

“Of course I’ve seen it,” Ariana snapped, “I pay people to keep track of these things.”

Josephine smiled and continued despite the outburst, “The paparazzi were following the duke, not you.”

“That doesn’t help.” 

“They don’t name you directly. And the coverage is positive, it’s possible we could use this to our advantage.”

Cullen’s eyebrows shot up. “We can?”

“If Bechalet were to reveal that the bann is in Haven with the Inquisition, we may get more international coverage…”

“It could backfire,” Cullen said. He didn’t like the idea of using Ariana as bait for more news coverage. Maker, he didn’t like the idea of using her as bait for anything.

“That’s true.” Leliana walked into the screen. “But we could use the attention right now. There are some updates we’ll discuss when you arrive back in Haven, Commander.” Leliana and Josephine exchanged a look, one that probably didn’t bode well for him.

“All I ask is that you consider it,” Josephine went on. “You two can discuss it and let us know what you decide.”

“All right,” Cullen replied neutrally.

Ariana looked at him for a moment, before giving the other advisors a wry smile. “We’ll consider it,” she told them before hanging up.

“For the love of Andraste,” she grumbled, dropping her phone in the cup holder between them.

“So he’s your ex… boyfriend?” Cullen remembered the blurb stating that she and the Orlesian had broken up more than eight years ago, but that didn’t explain their familiarity and comfort level with each other. Eight years was a long time. 

“It was never that serious,” she breathed, slumping in her seat. 

“Ex-lover then?”

“Sure, call it that.” 

He let out a sigh. “Do you think he’ll tell them where you are?”

“Paps aren’t stupid,” she told him. “No matter what Josephine said, they know I’m with the Inquisition and they know where the Inquisition is.” 

Cullen cursed under his breath. Haven was ill-equipped to deal with hordes of photographers descending upon it. “I need to talk to Rylen.”

“They won’t come after me, not without a reason.”

He gestured toward her phone. “Was that not enough of one?”

“Well, yes, but Jean-Luc won’t be in Haven, so there’s no point…” She trailed off. Her eyes widened a fraction as though she’d just thought of something.

“What?” 

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand _what_?” 

“Give me a moment.” She dropped her head into her hands. “I need to think.” 

An announcement blared over the loud-speakers, notifying the passengers to return to their vehicles for disembarkation. 

Cullen knew that Ariana wasn’t going to give him any more information at that moment, resolving to do research of his own once they were safely ensconced at their hotel that evening.

Ariana’s phone lit up with a phone call. An unknown number flashed on her screen. She pressed the button to ignore it. When it lit up again immediately, she turned off her phone entirely. She glared at the electronic in her hand. “Andraste’s flaming knickers!”

Cullen burst into laughter, surprised by her outburst. She was usually so proper. It was refreshing to see what more of her lay behind the noble mask she so often wore. 

Ariana slid her eyes over to look at him. A smile crept up onto her face and before long, the two of them had tears running down their cheeks. Cullen couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard at anything. 

Maybe, just maybe, this friend thing could work for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Haut monde_ \- (French) fashionable society


	7. Chapter 7

Life in Haven fell quickly back into place in the days after they returned from Val Royeaux. She hadn’t spoken with the commander again about Jean-Luc, nor had the other advisors pressed her to make a decision regarding their proposal to increase media coverage.

It wasn't a lack of interest in pursuing it further on their part, but rather due to Evelyn’s notice that not only had she hired a band of mercenaries known as “Bull’s Chargers,” but their leader—aptly named The Iron Bull—was a Qunari spy. Their attention had been redirected toward preparing for his inevitable arrival and off of Ariana’s brief appearance in an Orlesian gossip magazine.

Which was a good thing, because Ariana was convinced that Jean-Luc had set her up and she wanted nothing to do with him at the moment. Most people focused on his reputation as a rake and career as a chevalier, missing that he was also a masterful player of the Game. Indeed, as scion of House Valmont, he was trained by the best: Empress Celene herself. Jean-Luc was trying to maneuver her into some end. She didn’t quite know what that was, but Ariana knew how to play the Game, too. She would not step willingly into the path he was laying for her, not without good reason. 

After the first few days, when none of the paparazzi could get a hold of her nor easily locate her, she’d fallen out of public interest. She tracked the mentions of Jean-Luc, who had been photographed as he went about his daily business—alone, Ariana noted—pointedly ignoring the questions about her that the paparazzi tossed at him. As expected, they’d mostly forgotten about her by the end of the week.

Ariana was quietly tending to the garden when a frazzled Josephine rushed outside the village gates, two guards chasing after her. “Bann Trevelyan!” She exclaimed. “We have a bit of an… incident that requires your attention. At once, if you please.”

Ariana groaned. It seemed too good to be true that the world had forgotten about her. “Do I have time for a shower?”

“No! The others are already in the war room.” 

Ariana stood and brushed her hands on her slacks, but the dirt still covered her hands. Josephine’s nose wrinkled slightly as she noticed it. “You may have time for a quick wash.”

Ariana left instructions with the other women in the garden as she returned with Josephine to the chantry. Thankful for the opportunity to freshen up, she stopped quickly in the private restroom in her quarters before making her way to the war room at the back of the building. 

As she approached, she could hear the three advisors discussing something inside. Although to her ears it sounded more like an argument. 

When she pushed open the door, she heard mention of a particular distant relative Ariana preferred to present did not exist: Albrecht. Lord Albrecht had not been kind to her family when Evelyn's magic manifested itself, nor when she’d lost her parents and became Bann of Southwatch at age thirteen. Ariana had not felt kindly towards the man as far back as she could remember.

The three advisors continued discussing the best approach on responding to him. He was making an attempt to capitalize on Evelyn being known as the Herald of Andraste, especially now that she was gaining notoriety amongst the aristocracy. Sebastian Vael kneeling in front of her sister in Orlais had clearly prompted many of them to pay closer attention.

Josephine suggested promising favors in exchange for him to stop using the Herald’s name, while Leliana advocated for spreading rumors about Inquisition assassins in the area. As much as Ariana personally liked that option, the threat of murder would enrage him to the point of that he might do something drastic. She couldn’t have that on her conscience. Cullen suggested openly denouncing them and being done with it. 

Once she’d heard the three recommendations, the advisors stared at her. She lifted her eyebrows. “What?”

“What shall we do?” Josephine asked, pausing in the near constant tapping on her tablet to wait for her response.

“Has anyone asked Evelyn?”

The three advisors exchanged glances with one another as Josephine said hesitantly, “We have not. We thought—”

“That you may have more experience with your relations,” Leliana finished for her. “Besides, Lady Butterfort was quite insistent about the damage they are doing to both your name and the Inquisition’s and... where Evelyn is does not have cell reception.” 

“We haven’t been in contact with her for some days,” Cullen added.

“Do you even know if she’s alive?”

“Scouts keep their eye on her,” Leliana informed her. “We’ve been in touch with them.”

Ariana knew the ambassador’s suggestion was likely the best course of action, since all Lord Albrecht wanted was something to his own benefit, but she was angry that he was attempting to take advantage of her sister in this way. Especially when he’d done nothing for her sister or herself in the years since Evelyn was taken.

"Denounce them, Commander," she met his eyes evenly across the war table. He held her eyes a moment before he nodded in acknowledgement of her decision.

"Are you sure?" Leliana moved around the table to stand next to her. "It would be so much fun to show them exactly what the Inquisition can do..."

“I don’t think—”

“The bann has already made her decision!”

“But if we could…” 

Ariana stood still, silently watching them argue. Finally, she’d had enough. They’d asked for her opinion and she’d given it. She raised her voice to get their attention. “My decision is final, damn the consequences.”

“Of course, Bann. Thank you for joining us.” Josephine said with a polite smile, although there was tension behind it. Ariana knew she was considering the potential consequences and this would add another dimension for her to keep track of.

Ariana turned toward the door. She was reaching for the handle when it flew open and Cassandra barreled through it. Straight into her. The impact threw Ariana back onto the floor as the panicked yelps of the advisors surrounded her. Cassandra knelt beside her, her face tense with worry, “Bann Trevelyan!”

“Maker’s breath!” Cullen swore as he rushed around the table, his face moving into Ariana’s view. “Are you all right?”

Ariana groaned as she tried to sit up, deciding instead to remain on the floor for another minute. “Give me a moment.”

“I’ll get Doctor Adan!” Josephine chirped, sliding around the table toward the door.

“Does anything hurt?” Cullen asked, looking intently into her eyes. He wasn’t gazing into them, exactly, more like watching her, but Ariana found herself lulled toward sleep by the warmth in them. They were the prettiest color of gold. Were they... pretty? Was that the right word? She could just stare at them all day. Her eyelids felt heavy, she would close them for only a moment… 

“Wake up!” Cullen patted her cheek as her eyes flew open, concern written all over his face. 

“You cannot sleep, you could have a concussion,” Cassandra added.

“But I’m so tired…”

Cassandra and Cullen exchanged a look, coming to a conclusion without uttering a word.

“Wrap your arm around my shoulder,” Cullen told her as he slid one arm around her back and the other under her knees. “Up you go.”

He lifted her off the ground effortlessly, carrying her through the door of the war room into the chantry. Cassandra darted ahead of them, rushing toward the door of her room to open it.

Ariana allowed herself a brief moment to enjoy the feel of Cullen’s arms around her. They were strong and solid. He was only helping, she knew that, but she felt… safe. Something she hadn’t felt in years. No, it had to be because she hit her head. And he was a friend. She was safe with a friend.

“I’m fine,” Ariana protested. "You can put me down."

Cullen’s arms tightened around her. “No. We’re almost there.”

Ariana let out an irritated sigh, which made him chuckle. She could feel the vibrations of laughter deep within his chest. She bristled, “I can—”

“Take care of yourself, I know,” he smiled, laying her down on her bed. Ariana snuggled deep into the blankets, her eyes quickly falling shut again as the desire to sleep prodded at her consciousness. 

“Oh no you don’t,” Cullen told her as he pulled her up to a seated position, propping pillows behind her. “Stay with me. Adan will be here any moment.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. “I see you were out in the garden. How is it looking?” 

“Did your soldiers tell you that?” 

"No, not this time," he chuckled, the sound low and warm as it tickled her ears. “You’ve a smudge of dirt.” He lifted his hand to rub his thumb along her jawline. “Right here.”

Ariana sucked in a breath at the feel of him as he touched her, at the softness of him as he smiled at her, and at the tenderness she saw reflected in his eyes as he looked at her. He repeated the motion, more slowly the second time, his hand lingering as though he didn’t want the moment to end.

Her skin tingled where his thumb had brushed across it, where his hand still connected with her face. She felt short of breath, like she’d forgotten to breathe. She inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of him. Of a sun-warmed forest, of the fields after a storm. Her heart hammered, every beat loud in silence that enveloped them. 

“Cullen…” His name rolled from her tongue like an imploration. His nostrils slightly flared and he slid his hand around the back of her neck, twisting in her hair, as his eyes searched hers. A kaleidoscope of butterflies erupted in her chest.

A sharp knock sounded. Cullen leapt to his feet, putting several large strides between then, as the door was pushed open. Cassandra entered the room, Adan on her heels. 

“So I hear you’re now my patient?” Adan said as he came around the side of the bed. “Let’s have a look at you.”

***

“Why are you in Haven?” Cullen asked as he exited the bann's room with Cassandra. In the confusion of the war room, no one had thought to ask what she was even doing back in the village.

She grunted, an unhappy noise that reverberated through the stone room. Her lip curled in disgust. “The Herald sent me back. She has the Qunari spy with her. I already do not trust Solas and Varric, and now this. I am concerned about what it could mean.”

Cullen agreed that it should be a concern. He didn’t entirely fault her for the mistrust, they hadn’t trusted her at first, but he’d thought the tension had finally begun to thaw. Perhaps he’d been mistaken. Would they ever trust each other?

Josephine called him back to the war room to finish their meeting. The ambassador had concerns about Madame de Fer moving to Haven, as trunks of the woman’s belongings began to arrive. Privately, Cullen questioned how the Orlesian mage might benefit them, but it had been the Herald’s choice to invite her to join them. He would support it, as much as he could.

The days that followed were uneventful as he updated the training schedule to prepare for yet another powerful mage in their midst, should anything go awry. Beyond that, there was very little catching up for him to do despite spending almost a week in Orlais. Rylen had kept things running smoothly in his short absence.

He caught sight of the bann from a distance several times in the days after her run in with Cassandra. By Andraste’s grace, she didn’t seem the worse for wear. Rylen reported that she’d continued her training exercises, only taking off enough days to heal. 

Cullen was pleased to know that she’d taken to the training, despite her initial reluctance. To show his appreciation for her hard work, and to help encourage what friendship was growing between them, he eased the guards back. Not completely, and especially not beyond the garden, but he hoped it would be enough of a compromise.

The day the photo of Ariana had been posted on the gossip magazine’s website, Cullen dug deeper into her internet presence. She had all but disappeared from the public eye over the past seven years. 

Cullen tried to remember what he’d been doing seven years ago. He'd have already spent several years in Kirkwall at that point. It had been a chaotic time between the fall of the Starkhaven Circle and relocation of its mages, the influx of Ferelden refugees that continued to pour into the city, and the arrival of the Qunari. Sometimes he wondered if they would have survived without Hawke.

By his calculations, seven years would have been about the time she’d begun working with the mage underground. Most photos were from various public events and galas of the many charities the bann supported. There had been a slight increase in her appearances about four years prior. Had it really been only four years ago they’d finally quashed the mage underground? Maker, it felt like an eternity.

As he clicked through the news articles and the photographs, he considered how he’d never had much patience for the nobility. More often than not, he found them to be overly concerned about themselves and not concerned enough about others. But with each photo and each news article he clicked on, he saw how much of the bann’s time and effort she poured into supporting the work of charities across the Free Marches and, to a lesser extent, all of Thedas. The overall magnitude of the work she had done was awe inspiring.

When he’d finally gone back far enough, he’d found more information about Ariana and Bechalet. Although they’d been teenagers, the stories about them portrayed them to be the darling couple of Orlais. The headlines gave Cullen a play-by-play of their relationship, the young Marcher noble who had captured the playboy’s heart. 

At least it seemed that way until she’d returned to the Free Marches. Alone.

Once he’d read all there was about their time together, Cullen had decided to dig into Bechalet. After his relationship with Ariana ended, he’d gone back to his playboy ways, albeit with a more altruistic spirit. He’d founded a non-profit for teenage mental health several years later and, by all accounts, the organization was doing good work in Orlais to this day. 

The man had followed his adopted uncle into the military, becoming a chevalier as soon as he turned eighteen. Some sort of military prodigy, the man rose quickly through the ranks until he was promoted to grandmaster chevalier at the age of twenty-five. It may have been his uncle’s army, but Gaspard suffered no fools in his ranks.

As Cullen clicked through photo after photo of the man, he began to seriously consider how possible it might be to tame his own unruly curls into something more like the polished swept back hair that the Orlesian man had perfected. 

Several hours and an absurd amount of money later, a couple bottles of Orlesian hair product were on their way to him. After almost a week en route from Val Royeaux—it would have been faster for him to drive them back himself—the bottles arrived earlier that day. Cullen was both anxious and apprehensive to give the product a try. 

The problem was he didn’t know _what_ to do with it. He thought about calling Varric, but wasn’t willing to risk the teasing that would come along with that. He wracked his brain, trying to think of who else he knew who might be able to help him.

It didn’t take long for him to pull up the one name he’d been searching for: Sebastian. The man had impeccable hair and, more importantly, would hopefully take Cullen’s question seriously and not tease him too much. He hoped. When Cullen had last spoken with the prince, they’d discussed rebuilding efforts in Kirkwall. He hadn’t brought that request to the other advisors yet and he needed to have some excuse for the call… It was a good time to speak with the bann.

He found her in the refugee camp, sitting on a stool next to an open fire. She held a sleeping toddler in her arms, rocking the child in a soothing rhythm as she listened to the woman bent over a large iron pot. Ariana nodded several times as the woman paused, pointing her spoon into the distance, before dropping it back into the pot and snatching a screaming kettle. 

The woman poured the liquid into two cups, offering one to Ariana, who hesitated to take it, looking down at the child in her arms.

That would be his cue.

The woman almost dropped the cups in her rush to curtsey, while Ariana merely stared at him, her eyes narrowing slightly at his approach. 

He greeted the woman before squatting down next to the bann. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I thought I could help,” he told her in a low voice. “Hand me the child and enjoy your tea.” 

She lifted her eyebrows in response and he smiled at her unspoken question. “I have six… or so nephews and one niece.” He chuckled as her eyes widened in genuine surprise. “What, you didn’t think I think I could handle a child?” 

“Didn’t think you’d want to,” she told him as she allowed him to take the sleeping child from her, lifting the young girl into his arms. The child shifted in her sleep to snuggle her face into his chest.

Ariana stood stiffly, twisting her body almost imperceptibly in attempt to stretch it out.

“Thank you,” she murmured to him as she passed, giving him a grateful squeeze on the arm before walking over to where the woman had set up for them to enjoy tea.

Cullen walked around, rocking the child in his arms. She was so tiny and delicate, with wispy blond hair that stuck out in every direction. He was struck by how much she reminded him of Mia’s daughter. A quick count told him that his niece was probably a teenager by now. And if she was anything like the Rutherford girls had been, his sister had her hands full.

He hadn’t seen his siblings in years. More years than he should have allowed to pass. Not since he last visited while stationed in Kirkwall, before everything fell apart. The visit hadn’t ended on the best of terms, so he’d not bothered to make time to go back. Nor had he called. But he had at least sent Mia an email to let her know that he was alive and with the Inquisition.

When Cullen turned back toward the women, Ariana was watching him with a curious look on her face, but looked away quickly when she noticed his eyes on her.

The child stirred in his arms, opening her big eyes to peer at him. She didn’t immediately start screaming, although she was clearly confused to see him. Cullen bounced her in his arms the entire way back to her mother, passing her off at the same time tears began sliding down the child’s cheeks.

“Oh, Commander, ser! Thank you so much, ser!” The woman gushed, swinging the child onto her hip. The little girl put her thumb in her mouth and stared at Cullen with her watery blue eyes.

“But she’s crying,” he said sheepishly. 

Ariana gave him another funny look before thanking the woman for the tea. Once she had, she led Cullen away from the camp, back toward Haven.

“I’ve never seen you in the camp before,” she said when they were out of earshot. “I assume you were looking for me?”

“Yes,” he conceded. “I hoped you might have some ideas for the rebuilding of Kirkwall.”

She stopped walking, turning abruptly to face him, “You’re sending aid to Kirkwall?”

“As much as we can spare.”

She gave him a suspicious look. “You spent a decade in Kirkwall. You know the city far better than I do. Why are you asking me?”

“It’s been more than a year since I left. And besides,” Cullen gestured back toward the camp behind them. “You obviously know people. You know how to help them. And you could use your networks to inspire others to action as well.”

The suspicious look intensified. “Did you Google me, Commander?”

He lifted his hands in front of him in a gesture of surrender, “Guilty as charged.”

One side of her mouth quirked up. “And now you know all my dirty secrets, yet I still know none of yours.”

“All right then, I’ll let you in on one that I’ve never told anyone before.” He gestured for her to get closer and she did, stepping forward toward him. He could feel the heat from her body as he leaned even closer and whispered, “I have a fondness for… socks.”

Ariana blinked at him. “Socks?”

He gave her a serious nod in response. She threw her head back and laughed, deep and loud. Her laugh was the most captivating sound he’d ever heard. “You can’t be serious!”

“I would never joke about socks,” he told her with a perfectly straight face, even as his eyes danced.

***

There had been a shift in the air of Haven. Something had happened in the weeks, more than a month now, since she’d last been here.

The refugees still camped outside the gates, but new arrivals had slowed to little more than a trickle as the fighting ceased between the mages and templars in the Hinterlands. They’d passed many travelers on the road from Redcliffe. Many of whom were former refugees confident they could safely make their way back home.

Her sister organized and improved the camp, giving those who remained meaningful work to keep themselves focused and occupied. Beyond the work she’d put into the already thriving garden, Ariana helped procure raw materials for the refugees to make into finished goods. 

As Evelyn walked through the camp, she noticed women and children spinning wool as they talked. Others weaved or knit that same spun wool into clothing and blankets. 

The fear and uncertainty that had once permeated the village and it's outer camp, at its height in the earliest days after the explosion, had been replaced by a sense of purpose and pride.

It was here in the outer camp that she located her sister, sitting cross-legged on the ground amongst a group of women. From the distance, where Evelyn clung to the fringes of the camp, she watched as Ariana held her piece of knitting out to the group. She said something to the woman sitting next to her that made the entire group dissolve into laughter. It was familiar. Comfortable. Like an old group of friends that her sister had always known. 

Ariana’s head dropped and a reddish tinge appeared on her cheeks as the women began to pass her piece of knitting amongst them. Evelyn couldn’t even tell what it was supposed to be, but the women seemed entranced by the little piece of knitted wool.

Evelyn had been declared the Herald. The human mage who’d been blessed by Andraste herself before being shoved through a rip in the sky. It was she who was at the center of this Inquisition, this _insurrection_. But while she journeyed across Thedas, attempting to right the wrongs that the Chantry and other sovereign authorities ignored, it was Ariana who’d transformed Haven into a home. 

That shift she’d sensed was a comfortable feeling of serenity that had spread across the valley. Haven had at last become a sanctuary for the lost and the weary. For the broken and forgotten. For the nonconformists and the visionaries. A hallowed place for those who yearned to breathe free.

It was blindingly evident there was very little of this camp outside the gates that Ariana Trevelyan had not touched. Inside the gates, her influence may have been less obvious, but no less woven into the fabric of the village. It was in the way the people went out of their way for her, the way they relied on her opinion and her experience, and the way even the Inquisition’s advisors looked to her for guidance.

The woman that Ariana Trevelyan had become was utterly unexpected. In all the years Evelyn had been locked away in the tower at Ostwick, learning about the outside world from the tomes that lined the ancient stone walls and what little news the Templars allowed, she’d held close the image of Ariana as the ten-year-old little girl she’d left behind. The little sister who’d loved dancing in the rain and racing through fields of wildflowers in the summer, ripping up the hems of her dresses to make bandages for her knees when she inevitably had a tumble. 

That child had been wild, vivacious, and untamed. Like their father. Ariana probably didn’t even know how much alike they were, both in looks and temperament. They both had the same thick, black hair, dark as the long night of midwinter; the same pale, grey eyes that shone like smooth paragon’s luster; and the same radiant brown skin, like golden rays of the setting sun across the fields of the bannorn. 

Yet for all their darkness, they shone bright like beacons. Bringing others to them... blinding them… and if anyone ever got too close, burning them.

No matter how Ariana portrayed herself to the outside world, how enticing she seemed, she had walls higher than any Circle. Walls that were not meant to keep out, but rather, to keep in. To keep whatever she was protecting locked away inside barriers that no sane person would dare scale. 

She was still wild deep down, but she had learned to harness it, giving her a ferocious edge that frightened Evelyn. Almost as if she were a tempest waiting to be unleashed, waiting to wreak havoc on all that lay in her wake. She was as terrifying as she was beautiful. And nobody saw it. 

Ariana glanced up from where she was sitting in the refugee camp. A perfect smile spread across her face when she spotted Evelyn. Even as Ariana waved her over, Evelyn hesitated.

A woman approached Evelyn and invited her to join the group. Ariana had already tucked away her knitting and beckoned Evelyn closer again, standing to greet her. While Ariana made introductions to the group, Evelyn surveyed the woman around her. She could see it in their eyes, their gratitude for what she’d become to them. Their Herald and savior. 

She wanted none of it.

“Ex— Excuse me… I’ve a meeting to attend,” Evelyn stumbled backward a step. Ariana’s smile faltered, disappointment flashing across her beautiful face. “It was wonderful to meet you all.”

“Eve,” Ariana reached out for her, but her hand stopped several inches away, as though she were afraid to touch her. “Could we perhaps have dinner tonight? I would so love to hear of your journey.”

“Of course. I’ll send word later.”

Evelyn practically ran back toward the main gate, anxious to get back to the safety of the village. When she noticed several guards stationed strategically outside the camp, anger flared up inside of her. They must have followed her. Was it the Inquisition’s army or only its commander that distrusted her that much? She tugged on the Veil, drawing power toward her in her irritation. 

The small door on the main gate flew open. Templars rushed through to see where the magic was coming from. One of the men turned and shouted for Cullen. 

Evelyn didn’t wait for him to come to her. She stormed through the gate. He stopped moving in surprise as he caught sight of her, but she continued her warpath toward him.

“Herald—” Cullen started. 

She lifted a hand to silence him as she noticed the templars that had begun surrounding the courtyard. As though she were _something_ to be contained. Amethyst sparks flashed from her bare palms. 

Cullen held out his hands toward her in a helpless gesture. “Herald, please.” 

“Why are there guards tailing me?” She fumed, her voice rising as she stalked closer toward him. He flinched as she approached, but stood fast, holding her gaze. When she stopped in front of him, he signaled for the templars surrounding them to stand down. 

“They’re not tailing… you,” he admitted. All but a few of the men made themselves scarce.

“Then what are they doing following me right now?”

“They’re not,” he sighed. “Not you. Your sister.” 

“My…” Her eyes narrowed at him. “You have guards following Ariana?”

He shifted back and forth on his feet as his eyes darted around, searching for the right thing to say. He finally settled on a simple, “Yes.”

Her anger dissipated as quickly as it had risen. She crossed her arms. With her hands no longer in a threatening position, Cullen visibly relaxed. “Why?” Now that the adrenaline wasn’t preparing her to fight, she noticed there was something about him that looked out of place. 

He exhaled. “Unlike you, she has no defenses. If she insists on leaving Haven, the guards go as well.”

Evelyn studied him, trying to figure out what changed. Had she really be gone so long that he looked so different? “Does she know that?”

“Yes. She doesn't like it, so I ask that you not mention it to her or she’ll insist on going without them. Again.” One side of Cullen’s mouth quirked up in a faint smile. “It seems the Trevelyan sisters have a proclivity toward taking care of themselves.”

Evelyn tilted her head as she scrutinized him. Had she imagined it or had his eyes softened at the mention of her sister? And what did he mean taking care of themselves? 

He cleared his throat uncomfortably under the intensity of her stare and ran a hand through his hair. The realization struck her. “Did you do something with your hair?”

A blush crept up his neck as he dropped his arm to his side. “I… er, it’s something new I’m trying.”

“It’s nice.” She tried to smile, hoping to make the situation less awkward, but it didn’t feel right. It felt more like a grimace. 

Cullen cleared his throat again and shifted his eyes toward the gate. “You won’t mention the guards?”

Evelyn sighed, “No. Keep them on her. I’m relieved to know that you take her safety seriously.” 

The tense look on Cullen's face eased at her words and he bowed his head in response. Evelyn continued, “Something very strange happened at Redcliffe. I need to speak with you and the others at once.”

Cullen sighed. “I’ll let them know. We’ll convene in the war room in fifteen.”


	8. Chapter 8

Dinner had been another uncertain affair. After more than a decade and a half apart, the two sisters were having to learn who the other had become. It wasn't always as effortless as Ariana had thought it would be. And adding to that, Ariana had never stopped searching for her sister and was hurt by the fact that her sister made very little time for her. She’d been in the south for two months now and aside from their trip to Orlais, they'd only had snatches of time such as dinners. Ariana wanted to know eveything about Evelyn, but she hadn't been able to break through. And more than that, Ariana had started to wonder whether or not her sister even liked her. 

Evelyn formed fast friendships with a number of the people who’d chosen to follow her. First among them was Solas, the elven mage and doctor. He was nothing like the Dalish that lived in the forests of the Free Marches, nor was he like any elven person Ariana had ever met before. Ariana didn’t even know if he had a last name since he preferred to be called by his one name, Solas. He didn't even like the title Doctor to be placed in front.

There was also Varric. The dwarven man from Kirkwall, a noted author for his dramatization of the life of Marian Hawke, Champion and Viscountess of Kirkwall. Village gossip said he hadn’t come to Haven of his own free will, but surely they couldn't force him to stay. Ariana liked the man well enough, he was fun to be around and always had a good story. She did not like the nickname he'd chosen for her, Princess, but telling him why would require sharing that piece of her she didn't share with anyone. That piece of her that was her secret.

In addition to Solas and Varric, Evelyn had picked up a young elven woman from Val Royeaux named Sera; former court enchanter, Madame Vivienne of Orlais; and a mercenary known as The Iron Bull. Ariana hadn’t spent any time with the three newest, but now that her sister was back, she hoped to get to know them. Her sister certainly had surrounded herself with an interesting group of people.

Ariana had seen how close Evelyn became with Solas and Varric, and even somewhat with Cassandra Pentaghast, the Seeker of Truth, although to a lesser extent than the other two. Ariana couldn’t help but wonder what it was about her that Evelyn shied away from. She wanted to give her sister the benefit of the doubt that it would take some time, but every time her sister chose the company of others over her, it hurt.

There must be something wrong with her if her own sister didn’t even want to spend time with her. She would have to ask someone she trusted… but who? No one in Haven knew her well enough. Neither Sebastian nor Jean-Luc could be relied upon to be honest. And of the only two other people she trusted, Hawke was off the radar and the other one… well, she had no idea what had become of him.

When she exited her sister’s quarters after dinner, she knew it wasn’t late enough to go to bed. She checked the time, deciding to risk a walk around the village. There was noise and light spilling from the tavern. It would be so easy to go in for a drink, but the quiet of the village called to her. In the preceding months, she had grown fond of this little village in the middle of the Frostbacks, with it’s mismatched architecture and blend of new and old.

As she walked, she thought about how her arrival in Haven hadn’t been the happy family reunion she’d been searching for all these years. Despite that, she at least felt she was recovering some pieces that had been missing from her heart, even if they would never fit together quite the same again.

Evelyn had been taken at the end of a particularly long winter. The rains continued to pour through Wintersend and the girls were anxious to get outside. Their governess had given them strict instructions not to, a command that was practically an invitation to disobey. Ariana begged her sister to let her sneak out and play in the rain. It had been the innocent request of a child, one that her older sister had been more than willing to fulfill.

When they returned to the house, rain-soaked and shivering, the governess punished Evelyn. As heir apparent of House Trevelyan, Evelyn should have known better, the governess told them. They hadn’t known about the party that evening they were expected to attend. How could they? It was to be a surprise for Ariana’s birthday.

On the first slap, the light rain of early spring intensified, the loud splatters hitting the windows with increasing speed. On the second, lightning began to strike around the house, the terrifying thunder claps that followed rattling the window panes. Before the third could land it’s blow, Evelyn opened her arms and screamed. 

The pulse of energy that burst from her small body threw both Ariana and the governess back. Ariana landed on a couch, but the governess was tossed against the wall with a loud thud. Servants poured into the hall at the disruption.

Ariana would never forget the governess’s shrill voice accusing Evelyn of being a mage. Evelyn turned to run and Ariana caught sight of their parents standing in a doorway, the pair of them shocked into silence at the revelation. 

That night was etched in her memory, more clear than any other. She remembered her own feet on the ground, running as fast as her small legs would carry her to her sister, but someone grabbed her and kept her away from the scene unfolding in front of her. She could still hear the almost-feral cry of her sister at their parents' feet, begging them to help her; she could still see the horrified look on her mother’s face as she recoiled away from her eldest daughter; and she could still hear the deep, baritone bark of her father’s voice as he shouted commands to servants.

The person who'd grabbed her carried her up the stairs and locked her in the nursery. Despite her own desperate pleas for her sister, no one came. As the storm outside raged, she heard vehicles in the driveway, saw the way the lights flashed through her window, and felt the smite of the Templars rocking the house.

That was the last time she had seen Evelyn until she’d arrived in Haven. Her parents never told her where Evelyn had been taken. In fact, they rarely spoke of her at all. 

By the time the Fifth Blight began in Ferelden four years later, both of her parents were dead. It wasn’t until she received word from Haven that she’d learned Evelyn had been in Ostwick all along.

Ostwick. The Circle next door. 

She’d never forgiven her parents for that, nor for their blind faith in a god that said their eldest daughter was a curse.

She was still contemplating that night when she cracked open the old wooden door of the chantry. She’d taken a few steps inside when Cullen leapt up from where he'd been kneeling in prayer. His faith in that very same god was unwavering. Ariana didn't know if she could believe in a god of so much cruelty and hate. Why would He create humanity just to abandon them? Why would He curse his creations with magic? None of it made sense.

She started to roll her eyes at his mindless devotion, but there was something off tonight. He was shaking, sweat droplets sliding down his forehead into his bloodshot eyes. They were unfocused as he scanned the room before settling on her in recognition. “Ar— Bann Trevelyan, good night," he said, teetering in place.

“Maker, are you all right?" Alarm rose within her at the way his body swayed where he stood and the way he was clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Yes, I… no, It's no—no-nothing.” He made a half-hearted attempt to wave her away, but before he could do so, he collapsed onto a pew.

Ariana rushed to his side and, again, he attempted to wave her away. 

“No,” he told her weakly.

“For the love of blessed Andraste, let me have a look at you." She shoved his hands out of the way and placed the back of her hand to his forehead. His skin, although paler than normal, was warm. Too warm. She looked around the room in a panic, spotting a lay sister kneeling in the back corner. “Sister, I need your help!”

The girl rose from where she knelt and took several steps toward Ariana. Her eyes widened as she took in the collapsed form of the commander. 

“Get the doctor. Now!” Ariana told her. The girl nodded and ran for the door. 

Ariana returned her attention to the man in front of her, slumped on the pew, breath coming fast and shallow. He needed a bed. Immediately. Her room was just across the chantry.

“Keep your arm here,” she told him as she slid his arm around her shoulders. “On the count of three, we’re going to stand. One… two… three!” It took some force to drag him up by his waist, but she managed to get him to his feet. They took painfully slow, shuffling steps toward her room as he had difficulty balancing, even with her propping him up.

Once she’d finally gotten him onto the bed, she removed as much of his clothing as she could, all the way down to his undershirt. He was too far gone to even notice what she was doing. She had pulled the bedding back and was coaxing him into bed when he reached forward and caressed her cheek. 

Ariana froze at his touch, her eyes darting to his. This touch was different than any way he’d ever touched her before. He’d tolerated her hand on his arm out of propriety, he’d grabbed her as part of their sparring, and he’d even wiped dirt from her face, but this… this was different. He was intently staring at her, a hungry look in his molten gold eyes. A flush crept across her chest at the fire within them. His eyes dropped to her mouth as his hand curved to cup her chin, his thumb grazing over her lips.

Ariana’s breath caught in her chest and sparks ignited within her at the feel of him touching her. It was the most marvelous sensation. The softness and the strength contained in his hand. Her lips parted under the slight roughness of his thumb as he shifted it back the other direction. 

"Solona…" he murmured, his voice hoarse.

_Solona_? “What the—”

He tumbled back from her as though she’d struck him, flying over the bed to kneel in the corner. "Not this again! I will stay strong." He began muttering the Chant of Light, head bowed over his clasped hands, “Oh Maker, hear my cry…”

The door flew open. Both Doctor Adan and Solas rushed into her room.

“Guide me through the blackest nights…”

“Commander… Commander!” Adan rushed around the bed to place a hand on his shoulder. Cullen shuddered at the touch, doubling in on himself.

Solas turned to Ariana. “What happened?”

“He didn’t look well, I sent for a doctor as soon as I saw him.”

Cullen continued rocking in the corner, head bent over hands. “Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked…”

“Where did you find him?”

“Here! Well, in the chantry.”

“Doing what?” Solas demanded impatiently.

“Leave me!” Cullen shouted. His eyes were squeezed tight, his hair and shirt damp from the sweat soaking through. He looked terrified. Ariana's heart wrenched at his pain.

“Solas! A hand, please!” Adan shouted over the bed.

“Praying!” Ariana felt helpless at the chaos of the situation. The small room grew more crowded still as a medical assistant arrived with a box of supplies. Ariana shrunk back toward the wall in an attempt to stay out of the way, unsure of what to do.

“Make me to rest in the warmest places…” 

Solas placed his hands on Cullen’s head and Ariana could sense that he was pouring magic into Cullen’s body. The tension in the room diffused as the magic coursed through his tense body and calmed him. Within seconds Cullen relaxed, allowing the two doctors to help into the bed. 

The entire outburst had taken no more than a few minutes, but it had felt like an eternity. 

Adan was laying cool, wet cloths over Cullen’s body when Cassandra burst into the room. “Doctor Solas!” 

“Not now, Seeker,” Solas snapped.

“There is something you should know.” She looked directly at Solas. The elven man raised his eyebrows, but she only said, “Not here.”

“Fine.” He strode out of the room with Cassandra right behind him. 

Adan signaled to Ariana to help change some of the cool compresses that had already been heated by Cullen’s body. Ariana smoothed back his damp hair before laying a fresh compress on his forehead. Despite the turmoil he’d experienced, she had never seen him look so calm. 

Solas strode back into the room. “Everyone can leave now. I’ll take it from here. Thank you all for your assistance.”

“That’s all?” Ariana asked, dumbfounded.

“Yes, that is all, Bann Trevelyan. Good night.” After everything that happened, he dismissed her from her own room without any further explanation. 

Ariana frowned at him. What did she do now? If she couldn't stay here, where should she go? She didn’t want to inconvenience anyone to give up their bed for the night, but options in Haven were limited. She crossed the room to her armchair and grabbed the blanket laid across the back.

Exiting her room, she looked over to the corner of the chantry that had become the makeshift chapel, only a handful of lonely pews in front of the statue of Andraste. With a sigh, she walked over, wrapped herself in the blanket, and laid down on one. Using her arm as a pillow, she fell quickly into a dreamless sleep.

***

The spymaster’s command tent had to be in one of the most inconvenient locations in all of Haven, Cullen thought as he stood in the hot afternoon sun, surrounded by the entire village as he was forced to listen to Leliana drone on about approaching the mages. For the twentieth time today it seemed. Their spymaster was crafty. She knew he wouldn’t want to make a scene out here in the middle of the village and thus, he was forced to stand here, sweat beading on his forehead, as she presented her case.

Since the Herald had informed them of the news from Redcliffe the previous day, he and the other advisors had been exploring the two options for moving forward. Despite all the gains of the past several months, they didn’t have widespread enough support nor enough manpower to approach both the rebel mages and the Templar Order.

Leliana picked up her phone and tapped out a quick message. “I’ve asked Evelyn and Josie to join us.”

“Maker’s breath, can we not do this out here?” He groused, the exhaustion of his restless night getting to him.

Solas told him that it was called a flashback, prompted by a combination of relapsing and lyrium withdrawal. That might be the medical terminology, but Cullen knew what happened was more than the physical trouble with lyrium. He’d thought he was back in Kinloch Hold, trapped in that magic cage. Memories of those days, the feeling of weakness and desperation, had driven him to relapse in the first place. But what had happened last night…

His face reddened as he thought about waking up in the bann’s bed, tangled in sweat-soaked sheets. Mercifully, it had only been the elven doctor staring at him from the chair next to the bed. “Good morning, Commander. I trust you slept well?”

“Solas?” The sound was barely more than a whisper from his parched mouth. The word felt foreign on his tongue.

Solas chuckled, the sound too loud for Cullen’s aching head. “It is good to know you have your mind still.” The elven man rose from his seat and crossed the room, handing him a glass of water from the bedside table. 

“What happened?” Cullen lifted the glass to his mouth.

“You had a flashback... Hallucinations, lyrium withdrawal, your mind regressing.” 

Cullen took large gulps of water from the glass, draining it quickly. Solas refilled it from the pitcher next to the bed.

“The Seeker tells me you have decided to stop using lyrium. The drug is purging itself from your body. You had a particularly rough go of it last night, but here you are.”

“Thank you.”

“I wouldn’t have, but… what?”

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome, although you should know it was Bann Trevelyan who found you and sent for help. Without her intervention, we would be in a very different place.”

“Ariana…? Where am I?” Cullen sat up, looking around his surroundings frantically. He hadn't recognized the room he’d woken up in.

“Do not look so alarmed. This is her room, but she is not here.”

“Where is she? Did I…?” 

“You were not in good shape, Commander. You should know that I used magic.” Solas paused at Cullen’s wince. “No more than needed to calm you so we could treat you further.” 

Cullen sighed as he leaned back against the dampened pillows. “That bad then?” 

“I would have not done so were it not necessary. I know your... thoughts on the matter.”

If Solas thought it was bad enough to warrant the use of magic, then what had he done?

As though his thoughts had summoned her, Ariana and her sister appeared around the quartermaster’s tent, walking toward the chantry. Her eyes fell on him, meeting his own for a moment as the barest hint of a question passed through them and the shadow of a groove formed between her eyebrows. But the moment was brief as her sister spoke, capturing the woman’s attention once more.

When they finished conversing, Trevelyan joined him and Leliana while Ariana headed toward the chantry. He watched her until she disappeared through the doors. When he refocused his attention on the two women in front of him, he realized they were both staring at him. 

“I’m sorry?” He asked, unsure of what they were discussing.

“Josie won’t be joining us yet,” Leliana said as she gazed toward the chantry, a contemplative look on her face.

“She and my sister will be contacting some of the aristocracy about aiding Kirkwall,” the Herald spoke softly, her intense eyes focused on him. “I understand that was your idea.”

“I had suggested it, yes. Sebas—I mean, Prince Vael requested aid and…” He trailed off as he glanced away, unable to hold her gaze. “I owe the city more than I can ever repay.”

Trevelyan gave him a gentle smile as Leliana gestured for the two of them further under the shade of her tent toward the table. Once they stood around it, she rolled out a large map. It only took a quick glance for Cullen to realize the map was of Redcliffe Castle.

“Where did you get that?” He demanded.

Leliana's eyes cut over to him. “A lady never tells her secrets. Now, this—”she pointed to a spot on the far edge of the map—“is where we’ll access the passage and it will drop us—”she pointed to another spot in the lower levels of the castle—“here.”

“It’s still too risky,” Cullen argued. “Those agents will be discovered well before they reach the magister.”

“That’s why we need a distraction…” Leliana turned toward the Herald. “Perhaps the envoy Alexius wants so badly?”

“Focus their attention on Trevelyan while we take out the Tevinters. It’s risky, but it could work.” Cullen nodded, even though he wasn’t liking the idea. He still thought she should approach the Order instead.

“Fortunately, you’ll have help,” a smooth voice spoke from behind them. 

Cullen whirled to see a man he didn’t recognize leaning against the pole in Leliana’s tent.

“Where did you come from?” Cullen asked, alarmed, looking around for any of his troops. No one was near them.

“I invited him,” Trevelyan shrugged. She gestured between the three of them. “Advisors, Dorian Pavus. Dorian, advisors.”

“_Avanna formosus_.” The man winked at Cullen before he turned to Leliana. She was stone faced as she stared at him. He was much more subdued in his greeting for her. “Hello.” 

Leliana cocked her head at him, but did not respond. 

“Your spies will never get past Alexius’s magic without my help, so if you’re going after him, I’m coming along,” he continued.

Cullen ignored him, turning back toward Trevelyan. “The plan puts you in the most danger. We can’t in good conscience order you to do this.” 

She didn’t respond, instead looking toward the chantry in silence, so Cullen added, “We can still go after the Templars if you’d rather not play the bait, it’s up to you.”

“I’ll think on it,” was all the Herald said as she walked out of the tent, gesturing at the newcomer to follow her, which he did rather cheerfully.

Leliana watched them walk away and was silent for several moments after they left. “Tevinter, obviously. A mage. Not part of the Magisterium, but his father is. I don’t trust him.”

Cullen gave her a weary look. “We may not have a choice.”

Josephine and the bann were still in their meeting when Cullen headed toward the outermost checkpoint for his guard shift. He hadn’t been out there for several weeks and needed to check in for himself on the exterior defenses of Haven. Rylen had urged him to take the day off, to not press himself after what happened the night before, but Cullen insisted. He’d only told Cassandra about his efforts to quit lyrium, but Rylen had seen enough and he'd seen Cullen leaving the chantry that morning, the exhaustion in his eyes, and had known something happened.

As the hours ticked by, Cullen regretted his decision to keep the shift. The heat of the sun made him feel more exhausted than usual and even worse, nothing was happening. 

His replacement arrived as the sun was hovering above the horizon. Relief flooded through him. He turned back toward the village, ready for a hot meal and an even hotter shower. Before he could even take a step, he saw Ariana on the road, two troops trailing behind her. 

As soon as she was in shouting distance, she called out, “Commander! Do you have a moment?”

***

Ariana spent the entirety of the afternoon in the ambassador’s office, making call after call to her peers around Thedas. It had been Cullen’s idea to approach the nobility for assistance with the rebuilding of Kirkwall. One that the other advisors and her sister supported whole-heartedly.

When she’d caught sight of him standing outside the spymaster’s tent that afternoon, her heart skipped a beat. Although she could see the dark circles of exhaustion, his eyes were brighter and more alert than the last time she’d seen him. They’d focused on her. They had seen _her_. Yet she couldn’t get past the fact that the only time he’d finally touched her, he’d called her by another woman’s name. And it was Solona. Would she ever get out from that woman’s shadow?

She had to know. So after she finally escaped Josephine’s enthusiastic fundraising, she’d tracked him down. Although truly, it hadn’t been much of an effort. As soon as she mentioned Josephine was looking for one of them to assist in their work, Rylen told her where his commander was and disappeared to hide in the control room.

He was at the outer gate, his golden hair glinting as the sun began its long trek down to the horizon line. As he caught sight of her approaching him, he’d frozen. When she said she wanted a word, concern crossed his face, but he wiped the look quickly away and nodded her way.

“I thought perhaps we could walk to the lake?” She ventured.

“Of course.” His forehead wrinkled as he gave a hesitant nod and he indicated to the two troops patrolling behind her they should follow.

“Afraid to be alone with me?” She teased, trying to lighten the mood, but he didn’t return her smile. She looked over at him to see his brow furrowed again. “Commander, it was a joke.”

“A what?” He asked, pulling his attention back to her as they walked.

“It doesn't matter. I am pleased to see you looking so well today.”

He studied her out of the side of his eye as they walked down the path towards the lake. The sunlight was glinting off the water, giving it the appearance of a thousand glittering diamonds. “Solas told me that you… found me.” She nodded, unsure of how to respond to that. After a short silence, he continued, “Thank you for what you did.”

“It was no more than you'd have done for me. Have done for me.” 

They stepped onto the dock that jutted out onto the lake. “All the same," he told her, "Thank you.”

She stopped at the edge of the dock and stared out into the water. The soldiers kept their distance, stopping aways away from the wooden structure in order to give them some privacy. 

Ariana took a deep breath in before blowing it evenly back out, working up the courage to ask the question that had been bothering her. “There is something I want to ask.” She didn’t look at him, but he could feel the way he tensed beside her as she spoke. “Last night, you…” She trailed off, biting her lip as she thought about how to say it. The words that she’d practiced so carefully all day failed her.

“Yes?” His voice was scarce more than a whisper, as though he didn’t want to know what she was going to say, but needed to hear it all the same.

“You knew the Hero of Ferelden?”

He turned toward her with a confused look on his face. “I did. Although... that was a long time ago.”

“I don’t look like her.” Ariana stayed focused on the lake in front of her, the sunlight making the water sparkle, but out of the side of her eye she saw the way he stiffened and turned away from her.

After several long moments of silence, he responded with a simple, “I know.”

They continued to stand in silence. Ariana felt her heart pumping in her chest as she stared out at the lake. “You thought I was her. Last night.”

He closed his eyes briefly. In pain? Relief? Ariana couldn’t read the emotion flashing across his face as he took a deep breath. “Solas told me it was a flashback. I... I was not myself last night.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” she exhaled. 

“Maker, did I— Did I hurt you?”

_Hurt_ her? He thought she was Solona and then he asked if he'd _hurt_ her? What in Andraste's name had he done that would make him question that? She whirled to face him. “Why would you ask me that?”

"I…" She watched his throat bob as he swallowed and then sighed, “This might take awhile to explain.”

“So explain.” Ariana crossed her arms and met his eyes evenly. She stood there unmoving as he explained the connection between templar powers and lyrium.

“When I left the Order, I no longer wanted to be beholden to it. Or them. I’d been attempting to wean myself off it, but after my last relapse… I want nothing more to do with it. My body disagreed apparently.” 

Her eyes widened at his explanation. “You’re quitting lyrium cold? What happened to prompt that?” 

He swallowed again, staring at the wooden planks underneath his feet as the silence dragged on. She held her breath, unwilling to break the silence with even that. “I’d almost been entirely clean, but with the explosion, I was… I was using again.”

“But why did you—”

“Is it not enough that I don’t want to be an addict?” His tone was sharp, more hostile than she’d heard him use in a long time. Since that night in Orlais. She pressed her lips together, biting back the retort that hovered there. He must have seen something in her eyes, because he sighed and added, “The long term effects of lyrium are not pleasant. And I don’t know myself on it.”

Doesn't know himself? She leaned away from him, her eyes searching his, as thoughts of what templars had done in Kirkwall flashed through her mind. “Is that why templars do what they do to mages? Is that why you asked if you hurt me? Did you… Were you...”

His eyes widened in horror as she trailed off, the implications remaining unspoken. “What? No! Maker, nothing like… that.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair. The curls were making a comeback. She wanted to run her hands through them and see if they were as soft as they looked. “What I mean is that lyrium _is_ power. It’s like it’s alive inside of you and it needs release. If we don’t use the power it sort of… comes out.”

She tapped her foot as she processed everything he was telling her. “But you didn’t use lyrium last night?” 

“Right,” he hedged, “But Solas said it’s possible my brain thought I had during the flashback.”

They lapsed into silence. Ariana struggled to understand what Cullen was going through, struggled to see how the pieces fit together. “You didn’t explain why you thought I was the Hero of Ferelden.”

“It wasn’t you.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t myself last night.”

She steeled her gaze at him. “How did you know her?” 

“My first posting as a fully-fledged templar was to Ferelden’s Circle. Solona was there.”

Ariana’s eyebrows shot up at that. The way he’d caressed her face right before he called her Solona… that was a lover’s caress. Thoughts and emotions careened around inside of her, too fast for her to wrangle. Templars, mages, Circles, rumors from Kirkwall, and… Solona. 

Ariana had never even met the woman, but she knew her. Not as the Hero, but as the woman who’d once loved and been loved in return. The woman had sacrificed herself for Ferelden, for Thedas, over a decade ago and yet the memory of her lingered. She was everywhere. And those lingering remnants still cast shadows that were impossible to escape. Even more than Ariana had ever realized. It wasn't easy to live in her shadow. Ariana should know. She'd tried.

“Did you and she ever…” Ariana couldn’t finish the question. She didn’t want to know the answer, not at the moment. Maybe not ever. She didn’t know if she could handle it if he said yes. “Never mind. Thank you for the explanation. Please excuse me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Avanna _\- (Tevene) Hello  
_Formosus_ \- (Latin) Handsome


	9. Chapter 9

When she'd left him standing at the dock yesterday, Cullen didn’t understand what happened. Thinking he was at Kinloch Hold and that she was Solona had been bad enough, but he could not figure out what else he’d done that made the bann abruptly end the conversation and disappear. He’d turned it over in his mind as he watched the stars rotate through the hole in his tent. If he’d thought she was Solona, then there were only a few options. There was something about her insistence that he tell her how he’d known Solona… Like there was more to the story. Why did she care so much?

Ariana had been right she looked nothing like Solona. They were also different in other ways, as different as the sun and the moon. Where Solona had been like a light summer breeze that made the day more pleasant, Ariana was the gale force wind that had the power to uproot and reorient everything he’d ever known. There was something intoxicating about her… something dark and dangerous. It drew him in, tantalizing and alluring. He wanted more. He wanted everything. Which is why when she'd up and left, he couldn't help but feeling like there were missing pieces. Things he didn't know... But wanted to.

Sleep eluded him, so he knew that he wasn’t in top form for that morning’s war council, despite the copious amounts of coffee he’d inhaled as he walked toward the chantry. Trevelyan had not made a decision the previous day on whether or not to accept Alexius Geron’s invitation to Redcliffe, but she was running out of time. The advisors stood in the war room, staring in silence at the table in front of them where the map of Thedas was laid out. Trevelyan was standing in front of it, inspecting an ornate dagger. She turned to Leliana, “You want me to stab the map with _this_?” 

Leliana shrugged. “Stabbing is cathartic.”

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen cursed under his breath.

“All right,” Trevelyn said, turning the weapon over in her hands. “I think we should find out what is going on at Redcliffe. And I don’t trust the Templars,” she added, giving Cullen a tight smile. “Present company excluded.”

“I’m no longer with the Order,” he reminded her.

“Right, so here’s the plan—”she stabbed the dagger into the table on Redcliffe—“I’ve accepted the meeting and Alexius set it for more than two weeks from now. The delay is… surprising, but we will take advantage of the time. I leave today, but for the Fallow Mire.”

“The Fallow Mire?” Josephine exclaimed.

“An Avvar insurgency captured some troops stationed there,” Cullen offered in explanation.

“Commander, stand ready. I will request backup.” Cullen acknowledged the command with a nod. 

She turned to the spymaster. “Nightingale, move your people to Redcliffe when Commander Cullen moves through. Quietly. Do not let Alexius get even a hint of what we are doing.”

“Devious.” The drawled word came from the door to the war room where the Tevinter mage now stood. That man had the worst habit of popping up where he was unwanted. “I’ll think I’ll stay here and help move in your spymaster’s agents.”

Cullen rolled his eyes. Maker help them.

“Good. I’ve asked Solas, Bull, and Sera to accompany me. We’ll depart after lunch.” Trevelyan began to turn toward the door, but she paused. “Does anyone know when Arl Teagan will be returning to Redcliffe?”

“My sources say the queen has mobilized several companies toward the west,” Leliana offered.

“And Denerim has reported the arl will be following within the week,” Josephine added.

“Someone make arrangements to get my sister there.” With that last command, she exited the room, the Tevinter mage on her heels. Cullen couldn’t help but question why Trevelyan wanted her sister to be at Redcliffe with the arl.

As planned, Trevelyan left within a few hours, taking Solas, the Iron Bull and the young elven woman named Sera with her. 

Once she was gone, Haven returned to the normalcy he’d grown accustomed to. Everything was as it should be: Josephine improved diplomatic connections; Leliana did whatever it was she did in the shadows; and he trained the troops, preparing them for that inevitable day when they would be asked to fight for the Inquisition. Days passed in this way, longer and hotter than ever as August drew to a close. The shift in the air was subtle, but Cullen could sense that slight crispness that hovered as the world hurtled toward autumn. 

Cullen didn’t see much of Ariana after her sister left and, more significantly, after their conversation on the dock. He tried not to be disappointed by her abrupt ending of that conversation and subsequent avoidance, but he was. He knew he shouldn’t, but... he liked being around her. There was something about her that called to him and he was powerless to resist.

_No_, he corrected, _not entirely_. He’d managed to resist the intensity of his desire for her thus far. Sometimes he thought about the earliest days when the want for her had overwhelmed all else and wondered where they would be if he’d just given in… Should he have? Maybe. Because then he wouldn’t have to relegate himself to reading reports of her instead of being with her. The reports may tell him she’d been keeping up with the garden or continuing her training with Rylen, but they did nothing to help him forget about the way his fingers felt twisted in her hair or the way his name rolled off her tongue like a benediction…

But he wouldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t. He knew that she would never be his. No amount of wanting could change that. He also knew that if he gave in, if he allowed himself to surrender, that he would never make it out the other side. Cullen had no doubt that if given the opportunity, Ariana Trevelyan would shake his very being.

So he kept his distance and he let her keep hers. Which is why, several days later, after the sun slipped behind the mountains and twilight fell over Haven, he wasn't prepared when he finally came face-to-face with her again. It had been four days since he’d last been this near her... Not that he was counting, of course. 

He’d left the small building Adan used as an office with a bag full of herbal teas and medicinal chews when Ariana appeared on the stairs in front of him. Her arm was looped through Pavus’s and their heads were bowed close together as they giggled.

How she still managed to take his breath away, even after all this time, was beyond his comprehension. 

His eyes grazed over her, taking in the black, long sleeved shirt with a high neck that would have been too warm for the late summer day if it weren’t for the shortness of the garment. He sucked in a shallow breath at the bare strip of skin between where the shirt ended and her skirt began, her brown skin warm against the dark clothing.

Almost as though she could hear his thoughts, Ariana cast her eyes in his direction. She whispered something to Pavus and the man’s eyes slid over to Cullen, an impish grin appearing on his face. Pavus nodded at whatever Ariana whispered in his ear and strutted—there was no other way to describe the man’s walk—toward the guest lodging.

Heat burned in him as Ariana approached, her steps sure and steady, looking more like a model on a catwalk than a woman in a dusty, isolated village in the middle of the Frostbacks. She was no more than a few steps away when she lost her footing, stumbling on the heeled shoes she insisted on wearing everywhere. Her arms grabbed hold of the front of his shirt at the same time his arm slid around her waist, the other hand grabbing at her elbow to keep her upright.

Electricity zinged through him when the palm of his hand connected with her bare skin. She’d felt it too, if the way her eyes widened and shot up to meet his was any indication. She’d already regained her balance, but they stood there unmoving with her hands curled in the fabric of his shirt and his arm tight around her waist.

Cullen felt his heart hammering in his chest as the world seemed to slow around them. Her usually light eyes were dark as she took in a ragged breath. They stared into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. His entire body shouted at him to pull her closer and—

A cheer erupted from outside the tavern, drawing his attention. Other sounds came rushing at him: The tolling bell of the chantry, Adan slamming around bottles as he mixed remedies, and someone singing. Badly.

Maker take him, he couldn’t do this. It took every shred of self-control he had left, but he dropped his arms and stepped back. Her hands hovered in the air between them for another moment before she wrapped them around herself.

“Is there something you need?” The words were stiff as he attempted to force normalcy into his voice despite the fire that had been ignited within him. He knew she’d be haunting his dreams again tonight. She always did.

“I… I wanted to tell you, the other day, but I—” She giggled again, stepping toward him and placing a hand on his arm. When he didn’t outwardly react, she ran her hand up his arm toward his shoulder before lifting it up to dance lightly across the side of his head. Cullen could hardly breathe. He closed his eyes, futilely willing his body not to react. With each touch of her fingers, electricity shot through him, over and over again. “I like what you’ve done with your hair. It… suits you.”

As the tips of her fingers trailed along his scalp, Cullen couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. All he could do was feel what she was doing to him. It was agony. Absolute, beautiful agony.

She grazed her fingers back down the side of his face to rest lightly on his chest. Cullen risked opening his eyes to look at her. Had he not noticed the reddish tinge on her lips, the light flush across her cheeks, and the subtle glassiness of her eyes, he might have misunderstood what had just happened. She’d been drinking. Thank the Maker he hadn’t taken advantage of that.

“Ari dear!” A deep voice called through the open door of the guest lodgings, “This wine won’t drink itself."

He stiffened at hearing the Tevinter man’s nickname for her. The man had known her less than week. It was another reminder of how far beyond his reach this noblewoman would always be. Cullen would never be allowed the liberty of a nickname for the bann. She’d been swift in her correction that he call her by her title, and she'd never changed that directive, so her title he would use. He took another step away from her, away from the fingers that were lightly stroking his chest. Best to keep his distance. Better to remind himself and remember who she was. Who he was. 

“Thank you. Enjoy your evening.” He inclined his head, before turning away to head across the village toward his tent. 

He didn’t turn quickly enough to avoid seeing the look of hurt that flashed across her face; not quickly enough to avoid seeing the defiant toss of her head; and not quickly enough to avoid seeing her striding toward the guest house, without a goodbye, without a backwards glance.

***

No sleep came to her that night. 

Ariana tossed and turned in the too warm sheets, unable to escape the oppressive heat that settled over Haven. The alcohol hadn’t helped, but if Ariana were being honest with herself—which she preferred not to be—it was the fair-haired commander who plagued her thoughts. She hadn’t been able to get him off her mind in months, no matter how much she tried to avoid him. Whereas once he’d been on her mind as the knight-captain who haunted her dreams in fear, it was now the man himself who’d tormented her thoughts. And she was very much aware of him as a man. 

With a groan, she rolled over and shoved her face into her pillow. Ariana could write out a list of one thousand reasons why the commander of the Inquisition’s armies was _not_ a man she should be so preoccupied with, but her traitorous body defied her. It wanted who it wanted and right now, it wanted Cullen. She had wanted him since the day she’d arrived in Haven for all that she tried to deny it.

“Oh, he is delightful,” Dorian said by way of greeting when she entered his lodging that evening. She’d been tipsy and overcome with the desire to touch him when she’d seen him standing in front of her. She had. And he’d rejected her... Again. That part was tiresome. What was his objection to her? 

Ariana sat down on the divan next to Dorian and reached for the glass of wine he held out. She took a long, steady sip of her wine. Her face was hot, she could feel the heat rising on her cheeks, as Dorian watched her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Well, if you’re not interested then I certainly am!” Dorian exclaimed, his wine sloshing in his glass as he held it up in toast.

“Good luck with that,” she grumbled, taking another deep drink from her glass.

“Oh?” He asked, eyebrows lifting as a teasing smile appeared. "Shall we make a wager on who beds him first?"

"Dorian!"

"Although, it would be dreadfully unsporting of you to take that bet. I did hear that he was seen leaving your bed last week...”

Ariana almost spit her wine back into her glass. “He was _not_! Well, he was, but I wasn’t—” She cut off abruptly, clamping her mouth shut to glare at him.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” Dorian winked at her, reaching over the side of the couch for the bottle.

“Oh, stop. Let the man do his job.”

“Yes, well, it’s such an important job and there is much to be said for…" Dorian gave her a knowing look. "Stress relief.”

“Dorian!”

“If you keep saying my name like that, he might get the wrong idea about us,” Dorian teased as he poured her another glass of wine.

“You’re impossible," she groaned. He merely winked in response.

Dorian had been right about one thing though. There was something to be said about a little stress relief.

She spent the next few hours mulling over the idea forming in her head. The advisors, well, at least two of them, had wanted her to take advantage of the publicity she and Jean-Luc had stirred up earlier that month to bring attention to the Inquisition. After what happened in Orlais, Ariana had been hesitant to bring Jean-Luc to Haven. The more she thought about it, the more she convinced herself that he wanted something from her. Perhaps bringing him here would put him on her turf where she had more control over the gameplay. Among other things.

As it had been close to sunrise when Ariana finally drifted off to sleep, it wasn’t until late morning when she finally rose and dressed for the day. Once she had, she found Josephine in her office.

“Bann Trevelyan!” Josephine said brightly as she closed her laptop and picked up a tablet, “How can I help you this afternoon?”

“You can start by calling me Ariana, you know that.”

Josephine smiled. “Of course, Ariana.”

“Earlier this month, you and Leliana wanted to take advantage of the media attention to bring more awareness to our cause. I’ve been thinking…” Josephine listened with rapt attention while Ariana outlined the plan she built in her head the previous night. When she was finished explaining, Josephine unlocked her tablet and began tapping at the screen. 

“The Herald's meeting with the magister is just under two weeks, more or less, and she’s asked that you be there.”

“Me? Whatever for?”

“Queen Anora is moving on Redcliffe as we speak and you will be the Inquisition’s delegate to meet with them.”

“Of course, whatever is needed.”

“But we won’t need you to travel until right before the Herald meets with the magister. Your plan could distract from the movements of our agents.” She lifted her hand to her chin. “Yes, yes it could work. Let me speak with the others and I’ll let you know this afternoon.”

In fact, it was little more than an hour later when Josephine texted her, requesting she join them in the war room. 

When she entered, Cullen was standing across the table, in between the other two advisors, with his arms crossed and jaw firmly set. He was looking at the map on the table in front of them with a dark scowl on his face, staring at the markers laid out around Redcliffe.

“I’m so happy you’ve come around,” Leliana told her with a warm smile. “This will be just the thing to help our agents slip into Redcliffe unnoticed.”

“I don’t like it,” Cullen’s hard look was directed at Leliana now. “If something were to happen—”

“Knight-Captain Rylen will be here,” Josephine interrupted, “The Herald is in the Fallow Mire. What is the worst that can happen?”

“Haven is not a fortress!”

“It’s a journalist, not an army!” Josephine shot back.

“Maybe Jean-Luc could bring—”

“No,” Cullen rebuked her sharply as leaned over the table, pressing his hands into it. His eyes bore into her. “Do not ask to invite any part of the Orlesian army into Ferelden.”

Her jaw clenched as she stared back at him. “I was going to say some friends, but I stand corrected.” She waved her hand between the three of them. “Why don’t you all decide what I can and cannot do. Clearly, I'm not needed here.” Ariana whirled around and slid her phone out of her pocket. She texted Dorian an SOS message to meet her as she strode out of the war room and the chantry, turning left to take the shortcut to the tavern. 

The bar was empty at this time of day, so Ariana found a seat in a back corner after getting a glass of whiskey from Flissa. The Fereldan stuff was no good, but she needed something harder than wine right now. 

Ariana wished she could say his reaction had been unexpected, but it wasn't. Not entirely. They'd managed to come to some sort of peace after that night in Orlais, but the past weeks had put everything back into disarray. She didn't know where they stood and it was driving her to distraction. One day they seemed to be making progress and the next he's calling her by another woman's name.

The way he’d touched her face when he thought she was Solona… Had they been in love once? Was he still in love with her? Is that why he reacted the way he did to her? Ariana knew he wanted her, she could see it in his eyes, but something always held him back. Maybe it was some misplaced sense of commitment to a woman who’d been gone for ten years. Although Solona certainly hadn’t been as committed to him as he was to her, if that’s what it was... Which Ariana hoped it wasn’t. 

For the love of Andraste, why was she even thinking about him like this? She planned to have Jean-Luc visit. Void, it was even her suggestion. She really couldn’t be thinking of another man while Jean-Luc was in her bed.

The side door opened behind her and Ariana was surprised when the intelligence director slid into the seat next to her. “That was quick.” She swirled the whiskey in the glass.

Leliana shrugged. “They’re still working through the details.”

“Then why are you here and not there?”

“To check on you. Do you want to talk about it?” 

Ariana sighed and stared down into her glass. “He doesn’t think very highly of me.”

“On the contrary, he holds you in the highest regard.” 

Ariana looked up at her in surprise. “How do you know that?”

Leliana gave her a gentle smile. “I’ve known Cullen for many years.” 

“Then why does he act like he doesn't trust me?” Ariana downed the rest of her drink, holding the empty glass up to Flissa. "He is maddening."

Leliana studied the glass as Ariana set it back down to the table before meeting her eyes. “He’s seen firsthand how lack of oversight can have catastrophic consequences. Several times now. But you’ll be pleased with the solution they’re working on… It does involve some chevaliers.”

“What happened to not inviting 'any part of the Orlesian army into Ferelden’?” Ariana mimicked Cullen’s voice as she repeated the words he’d said not a quarter of an hour earlier, smacking her hand on the table in front of her.

"He means well..." Leliana took in a deep breath, but at that moment, Dorian entered the tavern, his hair slightly awry as though he hadn't quite finished styling it. The intelligence director stood. “Good afternoon, Bann. Hello, Pavus.”

Flissa brought over two glasses of whiskey as Dorian stared after Leliana, only sitting down once the door closed behind her. “That woman unnerves me.” 

Ariana let out a nervous laugh. “You and me both.”

“So what’s the emergency?” 

“Well, I’ve invited my... Former? Lover? To Haven?” Maker, why did she feel so uncertain about it now? It seemed brilliant this morning when she’d come up with it, but now… Now she had the sinking feeling that she’d made a horrible mistake.

“No.” Dorian’s eyes widened. “That Orlesian you were with in Val Royeaux last month?”

“How do you know about that?” She asked as she took another sip of the amber liquid, warmth spreading through her as it slid down her throat.

“Everyone knows about that. Well, this is an emergency! What are you going to do about…” Dorian looked around the room before lowering his voice conspiratorially. “You know who?”

“Who?”

Dorian leveled a look at her. “Please. One could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife.”

“You’re making that up.” 

“Ari, dear. You know I adore you, but you are being intentionally dense right now. Also, could you please explain why we are drinking whiskey before lunch?” He lifted the glass toward her in question.

“I needed the fortification.”

He let out a huff in amusement. “Yes, well, I’d imagine you do.” He sniffed the amber liquid before taking a tentative sip.

Ariana pressed her lips together. Now two drinks in, her tongue was feeling looser. She'd only know Dorian for a week, but he’d been the closest thing she had to a friend here. Despite what Cullen had told her in Orlais, they still mostly avoided each other. Which was probably for the best. And Josephine was still working on even using her given name. And Leliana… well. She sighed, “He doesn’t want me, Dorian.”

“Come again?”

“There’s nothing to be done,” she sighed again, “Because he doesn’t want me.”

Dorian let out a sharp bark of laughter. “That’s where you’re wrong. That man wants you.”

“No, he’s been rather clear that he doesn’t.” 

“He turned you down? As in, you said, ‘So here is my proposal. We dispense with the chit-chat and try something more… primal?’ and he responded with ‘No, thank you’?”

Ariana stared at Dorian. “That works for you?” 

“I don’t know. I’ve not had an opportunity to try it yet.” 

Ariana dropped her head in her hands. “Oh, Maker, what am I doing? I am so fucked.” 

“Mmm, yes, that’s rather the point, isn’t it?” 

***

Autumn arrived with the first day of Kingsway. Cullen noted the drop in temperature as they began the journey toward the Fallow Mire. 

He hated that he’d had to leave Haven, hated that the Orlesian arrived later that same day, and hated that he’d been forced to watch from a distance along with the rest of the world.

One journalist, from the Ostwick Daily Journal, had been given the exclusive on capturing Ariana’s work in Haven and the Orlesian’s visit. Cullen had left the room as soon as he and Josephine had come to a determination and he’d delegated the security detail to Rylen. He didn’t want to think too much about what might be required for the visit, but in the end, he couldn’t help but double check the plan that Rylen compiled. He read through it that morning before he’d left. It was solid. Cullen was grateful for Rylen. Without him, the Inquisition would be in a very different place.

Bechalet’s entourage would stay in the guest lodging that Pavus had vacated, but Bechalet himself was expected to spend the duration of the visit in the bann’s quarters. It shouldn't bother him as much as it did. The man was her lover, where else would he stay? 

His phone pinged with a notification. A quick glance at the lit up screen showed yet another photo of the bann and her Orlesian lover visiting the refugee camp right outside the gates. It was the third photo this morning. Cullen sighed as he popped one of Adan’s herbal chews into his mouth, trying to stave off the migraine that was throbbing at the back of his head.

The first day alone had been filled with photos of the helicopter landing outside the gates, photos of the couple taking a stroll along the lakeside as the sun set behind them, and photos of an intimate tête-à-tête under the stars. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. It was distracting, getting updates every couple of hours, wondering what she was doing, what _they_ were doing. 

But every time he went to uninstall the app from his phone something stopped him… Even if she was in the arms of another man, there was some comfort in seeing her safe. In seeing her _happy_. She was smiling in every photograph and he couldn’t get enough of it. He clicked on the latest photo and it filled his screen. He zoomed in on her face, studying her smile. She was happy and he would take comfort in that. He had to. The woman was so far beyond him she might as well be royalty. She might be one day, given the Orlesian duke she was with at this exact moment.

Cullen shot a quick text to Rylen confirming the details of the man's departure as his sport utility vehicle pulled up to the end of a road. Beyond them was the swamp known as the Fallow Mire.

“We’ve got to switch the tires. It’ll be about half an hour before we’re on the move again, ser,” his driver told him, unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing out of the car. The driver climbed on top of the vehicle and untied the tires stored there, tossing them down one by one. Behind them, the other vehicles of their caravan were doing the same.

Cullen leaned his seat back and closed his eyes, the crisp air coming in through the open window soothing him. His phone pinged again in his hand. He held his breath, hoping it was Rylen, but it was another blasted notification. Cullen groaned aloud at the photo of a picnic next to the lake. How romantic. Several minutes later, the text from Rylen came through, confirming that the Orlesian would be leaving as planned that afternoon. Thank the Maker for that small mercy.

The weather shifted first to cloud cover and then to rain as they drew closer to the Inquisition’s camp. 

Trevelyan was waiting for him under a makeshift cover when he stepped out of the SUV, her loose mage’s clothing completely dry despite the permeating wetness of the Mire. Cullen sensed she was using some magic to keep herself that way.

“What in the Maker’s name did you all do?” She asked, holding up her cell phone to show him a photo of Ariana and Bechalet.

“That was your sister’s idea,” Cullen grumbled, stepping out of the rain under the cover of the tarp. He already felt soaked to the bone. “Our agents are safely installed in Redcliffe and ready to move as soon as you arrive.”

“Don’t change the subject, Commander.”

“Josephine thinks it’s good publicity and Leliana thought it was a good cover to move agents without anyone noticing. And apparently, it has even distracted you, all the way out here in the Fallow Mire. Now can we focus on why I’m here?”

Trevelyan set her jaw and stared at him for a long moment. His phone dinged with another notification and her phone dinged a split second later. She swiped at the screen and held it up for him to see. A helicopter was lifting off from the landing in front of Haven and Ariana stood in the background with her hand lifted in goodbye. He could make out Rylen’s tattooed face behind her and his hand on her arm, already urging her back into the safety of the village.

Cullen let out the breath he’d been holding for the past several days, allowing the tension he’d been carrying to finally leave his body.

Trevelyan gave him a tight smile, “I don’t know how you let them talk you into that, but I’m glad it’s over. We can’t afford distractions.” 

"I couldn't agree more."

She turned and lead him further back into the tent. An aerial map of the swamp was laid out on a table. She pointed to where the Avvar’s base was and her plan of approach based on scouting. “The four of us should be able to handle the stronghold on our own, but it will be good to have backup in case things go to the void.”

“Give the word and we’ll be there.”

“They tell you ‘bout the dead ‘uns?” A voice quipped from on top a storage chest where a small elven woman was perched, eating an apple. Cullen hadn’t noticed her when he’d come in and he hadn’t noticed her move there. That was interesting.

“Dead… ‘uns?” He asked, turning back to Trevelyan with an inquisitive look.

“The swamp is filled with undead. Don’t let any of the troops step foot in the water or you’ll be fighting them off all day.” 

“Great,” he muttered, looking behind him at the expanse of swamp that spread out beyond.

“Bull might have some pointers for you in case you do though. He found some success with blowing their heads off.”

Cullen sighed, “Do you have everything you need?”

“We’ve got this, Commander,” Trevelyan told him as she picked up a small pack. She slung it over her shoulder before reaching for the battle staff propped against the table.

The elven woman—Sera, he recalled her name as—hopped off the chest and opened it, pulling out and inspecting the pieces of her sniper rifle. She too pulled out a pack and began laying the pieces inside with a surprising amount of gentleness. “Iss all good, innit?”

Outside the tent he heard Iron Bull explaining the most efficient way to behead the undead, ensuring that they couldn’t be revived. Cullen turned to see a small group of soldiers surrounding him, their eyes wide as Bull explained how many of the undead they’d killed already.

Solas approached him as the others gathered their supplies. “How have you been, Commander?”

Cullen gave him a warm smile. “There are bad days and worse days, but Adan’s remedies help.” 

“It will get worse before it improves. Allow yourself the space to heal.” 

“Solas!” Trevelyan called from outside where her small group was gathering.

“Thank you,” Cullen told him as the elven man headed to join the Herald.

Trevelyan’s crew seemed like a bunch of misfits when described in written reports, but seeing them out here like this, he could see how she inspired such awe. She was a natural born leader. He’d only seen her in action that one time, after the explosion, and it was one of the more terrifying things he’d ever seen. And Cullen had no shortage of terrifying and terrible things that he had seen.

“We’ve each got a flare, just in case, but we won’t need them,” she told him before turning to the others. “Ready?”

Each person gave her verbal affirmation and she turned back to him as she pulled her rain jacket up over her head. “See you tomorrow.” 

With that, they were off, moving single file along the rain-soaked path that lead deeper into the swamp.


	10. Chapter 10

“Bann Trevelyan! How lovely to have you join us this evening,” Leliana greeted her as she stepped out of the car at the entrance to Redcliffe Castle.

Something felt off about the woman’s uncharacteristically bright tone, but Ariana, conscious of the eyes and ears on them, responded in kind. “It’s a pleasure to be here, Lady Leliana.”

As she two women made their way toward the castle, Leliana dropped her voice to speak in a hushed tone. “The meeting went well, all things considered, but your sister and Pavus disappeared for several minutes. When they returned, something had changed. They were both covered in blood. She hasn’t spoken about it yet.”

“How did they come back covered in blood after only a few minutes?” Ariana whispered back.

“Time magic. We’ve never seen anything like it.” Leliana shook her head, before slightly raising her voice. “Well, here we are. Josephine filled you in?” Ariana nodded as the doors to the main hall were opened by the two sentries on either side.

The only way to describe the scene that unfolded behind the now open doors was subdued. The room was full of people, yet no one was celebrating. Queen Anora Theirin sat at the center of the head table, her pale hair luminous in the dim lighting and a golden diadem atop her head. To her right sat a man whom Ariana assumed was Teagan Guerrin, Arl of Redcliffe, and to her left was Evelyn. 

Ariana focused on her sister, noting how she still she sat. She was holding a golden goblet, presumably of wine, staring silently into it. Dorian had a similar thousand mile stare in his eyes as he looked out across the crowd.

“Bann Ariana Kalista Freyja Trevelyan, of Southwatch, of the Free Marches,” a herald announced in a droll voice, loud in the quiet room. It seemed as though everyone turned to stare at her entrance.

The queen stopped her conversation to watch Ariana approach the head table. Alone, since Leliana had disappeared into the shadows after they entered the room together. Ariana stooped in a low curtsey, her face near the ground, as she waited for the queen to address her.

“Bann Trevelyan. Welcome to Redcliffe. Join us.” The woman beckoned her to rise and gestured toward the empty seat next to Teagan.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. It is my pleasure to be here,” Ariana told her before she rounded the table to her seat.

A servant pulled out the chair for her and then poured her a glass of wine once she’d settled into it. The atmosphere was uncomfortably formal compared to the court in Orlais. It was also significantly less deadly. 

“How do you find Redcliffe, my lady?” Teagan asked from her left.

“Quite beautiful. It reminds me very much of where I’m from in the Free Marches.”

“Your lands are outside Ostwick, is that correct?” The queen spoke up from the other side of Teagan.

“Yes. They encompass much of the farmland that surrounds the city.” 

“And where is your husband?” The queen continued, as though she were simply asking about the weather. 

Ariana felt her spine instinctively stiffen at the accusation in the woman’s tone. Odd for this queen to be questioning her when she herself ruled Ferelden alone. “I don’t have one, Your Majesty.” 

Ariana picked up her goblet and sipped her wine, willing herself not to say anything more. The queen was trying to throw her off. Ariana wouldn’t give her any more information than necessary until she figured out what she wanted. 

"Oh?" The queen exchanged a meaningful look with the arl and continued, “I understand you will be negotiating for the Inquisition?”

“That is correct.” 

“I look forward to speaking with you more tomorrow then, but do pardon me for tonight. It has been a trying day.” The queen rose and swept out of the room without waiting for a response, the picture of grace and nobility.

As soon as the queen left the room, her sister and Dorian rose as well. Evelyn leaned over the back of Ariana’s chair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head as she passed, but she didn’t speak as she left the room, much more listlessly than the queen’s own practiced ease. 

Ariana stared after her sister for a long moment, worried about what might have happened in those few minutes she had disappeared. Time magic, Leliana had told her. Turning her attention toward Teagan, she asked, “What happened today?”

The arl explained how her sister had already negotiated a surrender by the magister and the mages that had overtaken his castle by the time the queen arrived. They had been shocked when Evelyn offered the mages full amnesty if they joined the Inquisition. Anora hadn’t been pleased with that turn of events after they’d given part of her lands to an invading force, but she was willing to negotiate with the Inquisition to ensure it didn’t happen again.

The volume in the room continued to increase as the hours grew later and more wine was consumed. Ariana found her conversation with the arl to be surprisingly pleasant. He’d spent a considerable amount of time in the Free Marches and wanted to speak of the intricacies of Marcher culture that the city-states had been trying to uphold, despite the increased globalization of the world. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so interested in the culture and history of her people.

They talked late into the night. Finally, a steward approached to let them know it would be a good time to retire. The arl walked her to her car, kissing the back of her hand as he bid her good night.

***

The negotiations progressed painfully slow. The hours spent behind closed doors, promising the queen of Ferelden that the Inquisition would take responsibility for the mages, was beginning to wear on her patience.

Her sister left the first day, taking her friends with her, citing the need for some time alone before making her report to the advisors. Ariana suspected that she’d done it to avoid any questions the spymaster set forth. At least for the time being.

With Evelyn gone, Leliana immediately returned to Haven, taking the bulk of the Inquisition agents with her, save for the few that would be left to accompany Ariana back. The spymaster wasn’t needed at the negotiations, which meant Ariana sat through the grueling first day of meetings alone. 

Even worse, she’d gotten little sleep as she had been up late debriefing with Josephine. And now, the second day was off to a spectacularly dull start as the queen wanted to rehash the same points they’d previously discussed. Namely, how the Inquisition planned to ensure the security of the region with so many mages on the loose.

It was a good thing Anora called a morning break when she did. Ariana had stopped listening and begun considering the different ways she might be able to make the woman’s life miserable. Ariana had nothing against the queen personally, but she immensely disliked her as a negotiator. 

She was standing at the window, staring out at the green hills of the Hinterlands, contemplating what would have happened if she'd been born a mere citizen instead a noble when the door opened. She spun, surprised to see Cullen striding into the room. “Apologies for the delay in my arrival,” he told her.

“What are you doing here?” She asked as he approached, keeping her voice low. Anora and Teagan may have left the room during the short break, but she knew that the servants would be listening.

Instead of the combat armor or fatigues she usually saw him in, he was wearing a more formal military uniform. It wasn’t the black tie formal he’d worn in Orlais, but... Ariana’s eyes trailed along the sharp lines of the uniform, noting how it highlighted his broad shoulders and strong arms... A smirk appeared on his face. “Leliana asked me to stop in on my way through.”

“Thank the Maker. I’m—” They both spun to face the door when it opened. Ariana lowered into a curtsey as the queen entered the room, Teagan just behind her.

“Commander Cullen, is it?” The queen asked as she approached Cullen. He straightened from his bow. “You’re Fereldan?” 

“Yes, Your Majesty. From near Honnleath.”

“A local then?” She looked back at Teagan. “Well, let’s have a seat and continue. We were discussing Lady Trevelyan offering full amnesty for the mages. As I’m sure you know, they hadn’t rebelled so Teagan provided them safe haven here in Redcliffe, but they betrayed that trust and invited a Tevinter magister in.” The queen’s cool voice appraised him of the situation and of Ferelden’s concerns as they settled back around the table.

He assuaged her concerns expertly, explaining the templar presence at Haven and the Inquisition’s plans should the mages betray their trust again. Since the first time had not gone so well, the Inquisition didn’t expect there to be further trouble. They were the same talking points Ariana had been reiterating for the past day and a half, but his presence, as the commander of the military, seemed to soothe the queen.

His ease at the negotiation table surprised her. He’d always seemed so uncomfortable around nobility, but he sat at the table as though he’d always belonged there. He had been Knight-Commander of Kirkwall after all. Ariana always assumed Hawke, as Viscountess, handled the nobility, but… maybe she hadn’t borne the brunt of those duties alone.

With Cullen alongside her, the talks quickly turned to more productive measures. When the terms had finally been settled on by both parties, he stood back as Ariana signed the treaty with Ferelden.

They strode out of Redcliffe Castle together. Cullen opened the back door of the vehicle for her before going around to the other side and climbing in. He directed the driver to the inn.

“I thought they’d never agree,” she told him, pulling her hair out of the tight bun she’d had it in. He watched her work her fingers through her long hair for several moments, before she leaned back against the headrest. “Thank the Maker you were here.”

“Leliana thought you might need some backup.”

Ariana sat up and turned to him. “I didn’t _need_ anything.”

“Of course,” he agreed, the edges of his lips tugging upward as he tried not to smile.

“But your presence was helpful,” she conceded, “I might have been stuck there for days otherwise. So… thank you.” 

He did smile at her then, that genuine and warm smile that made her insides flutter. She continued, “How are you even here? I thought you were to be in the Mire for some time.” He looked good despite having come from there... his blond hair curling from the humidity and his uniform perfectly pressed. And that blasted smirk that appeared on his beautiful mouth again. 

“Once the Herald took care of the Avvar insurgents, it was quick work to clean up the rest of the swamp. Here we are. Can you pack quickly? If we get on the road soon we could be back in Haven on Renataday.”

Ariana looked away as she thought about the explosion of clothing that was spread across her room. Josephine had sent her off with several week’s worth of outfits and Ariana knew it would be no small feat to wrangle it all back into her suitcases. She sighed, “Give me an hour.”

***

The drive back to Haven was uneventful. They’d spent the first night on the road at a small inn, but thanks to an early dinner and bedtime, they’d managed to leave before sunrise the next morning with the goal to reach Haven by sunset.

It wasn’t until they turned onto the mountain road that would eventually bring them to Haven that Ariana finally interrupted the hours of silence. “You haven’t asked about Jean-Luc’s visit to Haven,” she said, her voice a careful neutral. Cullen could see her watching him out of the side of her eye.

_Because I don’t want to bloody know_, he thought, taking a deep breath to give himself a moment to formulate the words he would say out loud. “I received Josephine’s report,” he said evenly, mindful of the two soldiers sitting in the front seats, listening to every word. _And saw the coverage_. 

She didn’t respond, staring out at the curves of the road ahead of them. He cleared his throat, the sound loud in the silence and continued, “I understand congratulations are soon to be in order.” 

He noticed her press her lips together before she captured the lower one in her teeth. Uncertainty. That was interesting. There had been quite a bit of speculation about the escalation of their... relationship, the word made Cullen feel physically ill, but even he couldn’t deny that seemed to be the way they were heading. At least, that was how the media... Or the gossip magazines at least, made it seem. 

The silence between them dragged on until she finally spoke, “That’s not... No, they’re not. He hasn’t asked.”

Cullen took in a slow breath as the emotions roiled through him. Relief, discomfort, and longing all competed for acknowledgement. He wondered what words were left unspoken with that last comment, but she interrupted any further thoughts on the subject. “There was a special broadcast on Orlais Tonight earlier this week. I think it was after Josie’s official report. The segment was on the Inquisition and Since then, we’ve seen an increase in the number of donations.”

Cullen glanced over at her, surprised. “What was the broadcast about?” 

“Mostly the refugees. It was unexpected. People don’t know what to make of the Inquisition. A paramilitary religious organization, not of the Chantry nor of any one country’s government. We are beholden to no one yet to all. But we are the only one even trying to close the rifts in the Veil and the only one taking care of the refugees.

“Thedas is beginning to realize the magnitude of what has happened goes beyond the death of the Divine and other clerics. People don’t abandon their homes and their lives, they don’t give up everything, if they don’t have a damned good reason. Most of the donations are supplies for the refugees, which reduces the strain on the village and the soldiers, but there has been some financial support as well.”

“Thanks in no small part to your efforts. What you’ve done is remarkable.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “I recall you being against the idea of bringing in media.”

“You know it was more than that. The safety of Haven is my responsibility. The village is no fortress, and now… Well, now we have the world watching our little outpost.”

Ariana crossed her arms as she turned to face him in her seat, “And between Eve cleaning up the Hinterlands and Redcliffe returned to Teagan, my hope is the refugees will be able to return home. The arl offered armed escorts, although he doesn’t have near enough people for the rebuilding effort as it is.”

“If some of the refugees could return home, that would alleviate the strain...” Cullen mused as he thought about her words. “Do you have a plan?”

“Not entirely, but I can have something for you… let’s see, I should be able to by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Early afternoon if at all possible, so I can look over it before the war council.” 

Ariana shot him a pleased look before sliding her slim laptop out of her bag and setting it up on her knees. “I can have it to you in the morning if you let me work now.”

He chuckled and turned toward his window, consumed by the thoughts of what came next as they drove toward Haven.

***

Cullen hadn’t understood the enormity of what happened at Redcliffe until Trevelyan called an emergency meeting the next morning. After the advisors were gathered, she walked into the war room and slammed a stack of papers down on the table in front of them. 

Josephine jumped as markers went scattering across the table toward the floor.

“The report from Redcliffe,” Trevelyan glowered, “Discuss.” She didn’t even wait for them to acknowledge her words, instead she turned on her heel to storm out of the room. 

Cassandra exchanged a meaningful look with Cullen. This wasn’t good.

“Well…” Josephine attempted a smile, but she gave up quickly as the others stared at her. “Shall we review the Herald’s report and convene as originally planned this afternoon?” 

Cullen nodded as he walked around the table and picked up one of the documents to flip through. The report was thick, at least fifty pages, but thankfully, the stack of papers was only four individual copies of the report. He held up the copy in his hand. “I’ll be in the command center if anyone needs me.”

Which is exactly where he was hours later when Rylen entered and interrupted him. “Commander? Bann Trevelyan requested to meet with you.”

Cullen groaned, leaning back in his chair as he stretched his arms over his head. His back hurt from sitting in the stiff chair and he wondered how long he’d been there. He’d only made it through three-quarters of the report, but the implications of what the Herald reported were… Impossible. There was no other word, but impossible. 

“What time is it?”

“Noon, ser.”

“Maker,” Cullen groaned as he stood, stretching again. “Tell her I’ll be right out. And Rylen? We need to ramp up our training against demons immediately.” 

Rylen’s eyes flickered down to the document on the table, but he simply nodded and turned to exit. 

Cullen sighed as he folded down the corner of the page he was reading and slipped the document into his bag.

Since it was time for him to eat anyway, he invited Ariana to accompany him to the tavern and give her proposal over lunch. The tavern was full of people, but several of them cleared out a back corner. For Ariana, he noted. The men and women who made space for them each shook her hand, giving her encouraging words of support about the work she had done for the village. Cullen admired how she knew each of them by name, asking after their families and their work, as though they were old friends. 

Lunch was a simple affair, roasted chicken with potatoes and vegetables. As he sat scarfing the food down, Ariana left her meal untouched while she went over her ideas. As expected, it was a solid proposal, but Cullen couldn’t help but consider what he’d read in the Herald’s report and wondering whether they’d be able to spare any assistance to the refugees given what was coming.

“It’s a strong proposal,” he told her, poking at several of the boiled potatoes with his fork, watching the way the steam coiled out from inside of them, “But the situation has changed since we spoke yesterday. I can’t spare any troops.”

Ariana pressed her lips together. “I’ve spoken to Dorian about what happened in Redcliffe, it shouldn’t affect—”

“What Lord Pavus has to say will not change the way I command this army,” he interrupted.

She leaned back and crossed her arms. “I assume you’ve read the report that _Lord_ Pavus helped write,” she snarked, her grey eyes flashing in defiance.

_Here we go_, he thought, giving her a curt nod. 

At his acknowledgement, she leaned forward and pressed her hands on the table as she spoke, “Then you realize how dangerous a situation we find ourselves in.”

“Yes, well, now Haven is on the map and all this Elder One needs to do is a quick search for the Inquisition’s location and—” He flicked his fingers out from his hands, mimicking an explosion. As he did, the tavern considerably quieted. People were pointedly pretending _not_ to watch them. Ariana opened her mouth to argue, but he interrupted her, “Let’s finish this conversation elsewhere.” 

Ariana closed her mouth and glanced around, seeing the same thing Cullen had. She nodded once, gathered her documents, and the two of them exited the tavern and headed to the chantry, toward the command room.

Several soldiers jumped to attention at Cullen’s presence, but a quick “at ease” had them uncomfortably settling back into their chairs. 

He led Ariana into the small room at the back they used a makeshift office and interrogation room. The same room they’d held Evelyn Trevelyan in the immediate aftermath of the explosion. Ariana frowned as she cast her eyes around the small room, her brow furrowed. “This is your office?”

“Sometimes.”

“And it’s private?”

“About as private as a space can truly be in Haven,” he told her, folding his arms over his chest and leaned his shoulder against the wall. 

The woman was simmering with frustration. She’d done a good job of keeping it under control in front of others, but Cullen could see it there, below the surface, waiting to boil over. Since she wasn’t saying anything, merely standing there glaring at him, he lifted his eyebrows at her. “Well?”

“Commander.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I am here because I want to be. I have put up with your security restrictions, your disdain for the nobility, the petty comments—”

“Petty comments?” He interrupted with a frown, unfolding himself from the wall. “That’s not—”

“If I’ve done something that warrants this level of—this level of distrust, I would ask you to tell me what it is!” The words burst out of her as she stepped toward him, a red flush appearing on her cheeks.

“Distrust?” He held his hands out in front of him with his palms up in confusion. “Where do you get that?”

“You approved Jean-Luc’s visit! We did everything by your requirements. Why are you now upset with me about it?

"Why do you think—"

"The press brought us international attention and sorely needed resources!” She took several steps towards him and crossed her arms.

“And it put us on the bloody map. I’ve said it a hundred times, Haven is no fortress!” He heard the level of his voice rising, but he couldn’t seem to control it. “We cannot withstand a direct assault and now our enemies know where we are and what our defenses look like. Giving the press unrestricted access to the grounds may have done wonders for our international recognition and our reputation, but it has put Haven gravely at risk of an attack, which now we know is more imminent than ever.” 

“Escorting refugees home will help limit—”

“I will not leave Haven defenseless," he interrupted, "My answer is no.”

“So you’ll risk the lives of hundreds of refugees? I thought you were better than that.”

“I am making a decision that no general ever wants to make.” He took a step toward her as he lowered his voice. “There is no cost of life that is acceptable, but this is war. Our enemy will have no qualms about cutting us down. I will not be caught unprepared.”

“So you do nothing,” she scoffed. "I don't know why I'm so surprised by that."

“Say what you mean.” His voice was tinged with frustration. Emotion was running high as they glared at one other.

“You seem to have a penchant for idly standing by while innocent people suffer.” Cullen felt his blood run cold at the turn this conversation had taken. “You may not like what I do, but at least I am doing _something_.” 

His nostrils flared as he counted to ten to calm himself. When he finally spoke, his words had an icy tone. “Not everything is about you,” he clipped.

Ariana looked taken aback. “I know that.”

“Then stop acting like it. Talk to Josephine about the refugees. We’re done here.”

She set her jaw and glared at him. “Good day, Commander.” She swept past him toward the exit.

“Before you go,” he said and she paused behind him. He glanced over his shoulder at her, speaking with a low voice, “Every decision has consequences. I pray you are prepared to live with the consequences of yours.”

The door clicked shut behind her.

Once she’d gone, Cullen finished reading the report and headed upstairs. He opened the door into the chantry, finding Josephine speaking with a dwarven woman about procuring lyrium for the mages. The free mages.

He’d known that was what the Herald had offered the mages. Maker, he’d even negotiated with Ferelden on their behalf. But having finished the report, as well as Solas’s thesis on the Breach and the thinness of the veil at Haven, he found himself less and less comfortable with the arrangement. 

He’d spoken at length with Rylen before coming upstairs. Not only about preparing the troops, but about strategically placing templars throughout Haven to protect them from the mages. 

There simply weren’t enough of them. 

He’d also dispatched Bull’s Chargers to investigate Therinfal Redoubt and see if they could make contact with the Templars, but he wasn’t entirely optimistic. 

Cullen wasn’t even certain how the argument started, but before he knew it, he was shouting at the ambassador about abominations and the need for more security. 

“If we rescind the offer of an alliance, it makes the Inquisition appear incompetent at best, tyrannical at worst!” Josephine told him with exasperation in her voice. It was the closest he’d ever seen Josephine to rolling her eyes, but she resisted. Diplomatic as ever, their ambassador.

When the chantry door opened and Trevelyan entered, Cullen turned on her in frustration. “What were you thinking, turning mages loose with no oversight? The Veil is torn open!”

She lifted her snow white eyebrows at him, but did not respond immediately. Her anger from that morning had dissipated as she answered him evenly, “Do not forget that I am also a mage, Commander. We need their assistance, not their subservience.”

He threw up his hands. “And how many lives will be lost if they fail? With the Veil broken, the threat of possession—”

“Enough arguing!” Cassandra interrupted him. He hadn’t even seen her enter, he was so focused on Trevelyan. “None of us were there, we cannot afford to second-guess our people. The sole point of the Herald’s mission was to gain the mage’s aid, and that was accomplished.” The Seeker’s eyes flashed with a warning to back down.

“The voice of pragmatism speaks!” A playful baritone came from the doorway. “And here I was just starting to enjoy the circular arguments.” 

Unlike Josephine, Cullen did roll his eyes. He already had enough high-maintenance nobles to deal with, he didn’t need this one as well. And another mage at that.

“Closing the breach is all that matters, “ Cassandra scoffed.

“I got a taste of the consequences if we fail,” the Herald said, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “Let’s make sure we don’t.”

“We will not fail.”

Leliana sauntered in from the war room and addressed Trevelyan directly, “We should look into the things you saw during the ‘dark future.’ The assassination of Empress Celene? A demon army?”

“Sounds like something a Tevinter cult might do,” Pavus quipped, “Orlais falls. The Imperium rises. Chaos for everyone!”

Cullen sighed at the implications. He could feel a migraine coming on. Between the Herald’s report and subsequent argument with Ariana, he’d not taken any of Adan’s remedies that day. That evening was going to be brutal. 

“One battle at a time, it’s going to take time to organize our troops and the mage recruits. Let’s take this to the war room.” He looked at Trevelyan. She’d always been somewhat of a reluctant participant in their previous war councils. “Join us. None of this means anything without your mark, after all.”

She gave him a bit of an impish grin. He’d seen that same smile on her sister, right before she teased him. “And I’d hoped to sit out the assault on the Breach. Take a nap. Maybe go for a walk…”

Cullen chuckled at that unexpected bit of levity despite the heaviness of their current predicament. “What is it they say? ‘No rest for the wicked?’”

“Meet us there when you’re ready,” Josephine said to Trevelyan.

“I’ll skip the war council, but I would like to see this Breach up close if you don’t mind,” Pavus stood from where he leaned against the wall. 

Cassandra was incredulous, “Then you’re… staying?”

“Oh, didn’t I mention? The south is so charming and rustic, I adore it to little pieces.” The man winked at Trevelyan. That wink was comfortable, like they had been through something that was so transformative, it didn’t require words. 

The look on Cassandra’s face told him the Seeker was thinking along similar lines. 

Trevelyan responded with a genuine smile. “There’s no one I’d rather be stranded in time with, future or present.”

“Excellent choice! But let’s not get ‘stranded’ again any time soon, yes?” Pavus gave them all a nod before disappearing through the open entrance to the chantry.

Cullen stepped toward the war room, “I’ll begin preparations to march on the summit. Maker willing, the mages will be enough to grant us victory.”

“How long before we will be prepared?” Trevelyan asked as she walked along beside him.

“It depends on how soon the mages arrive. The majority should arrive within the week. We need more templars and we’ll need to clear out some of the refugees.”

Trevelyan thought about what he said. “You really don’t trust the mages?” 

“Forgive my cautiousness, Herald. In both of my previous postings, mages voluntarily became abominations. I saw too many innocents slaughtered to be comfortable with large groups of mages without oversight.”

She shuddered visibly at his words. “How long then before you think we should make the attempt?”

“Maybe two weeks. Let the ambassador and your sister clear out as many refugees as possible and I’ll ensure the troops are prepared for whatever may come.”

“What can I do in the meantime?” She asked.

“I’m sure Josephine has some ideas, but you are welcome to join in on the training.” He shook his head. “From what I’ve seen, you don’t need it though.”

“Then I’ll see how I can help with the refugees.” She gave him a small smile before turning toward her sister’s room.

“And the mages,” he called after her. When she turned to him with a confused look, he added, “You were respected in your Circle. You could… speak with them.” 

She gave him a nod, acknowledging what he was trying to tell her, before walking away. 

Cullen entered the war room where the other three were already waiting for him. As soon as he took up his spot around the war table, Josephine spoke, “Now… Where do we even begin to prepare for a demon army?”


	11. Chapter 11

Snow was pretty. Prettier than Ariana ever knew. She could watch the way the large flakes twirled and danced down onto the village for hours. 

It had been falling at Haven for the better part of a week and even though the temperature crept too high each day for it to stick, she still felt as though she were living in a snow globe each night and morning as it swirled around her.

The fact that it wasn’t yet Harvestmere was not lost on her. Summer had transitioned rapidly into autumn and now the snow was already falling.

They’d spent the preceding weeks assisting the refugees prepare to return home. The help from her sister had been unexpected, to say the least. Especially when Evelyn told her it was the commander’s idea to help with the relocation of the refugees while they waited for the mages to arrive in Haven. After her argument with Cullen, she hadn’t expected him to redirect any resources to assist her, especially not such a valuable resource as the Herald of Andraste herself.

With her sister, the ambassador, and the spymaster helping, they had more than half the refugees on the road before the first snowfall. Another quarter had been escorted by Arl Teagan’s soldiers back to the Hinterlands this week as the last of the mages arrived. There were still a quarter left, but the numbers were far more manageable than the hundreds that had previously camped outside the gates.

Evelyn, the newly arrived mages, and Inquisition templars had set off for the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes that morning to finally attempt to close that ugly, jagged Breach in the sky.

The alarm on Ariana’s phone went off, reminding her that she was due for a shift in Adan’s office. She glared at the knitting project that had been giving her trouble. She’d been working on it for several hours as she attempted to still her mind and not worry so much about what was going on at the temple ruins. She didn’t know why she bothered to work on it, since she wasn’t speaking to the person she’d had in mind to give it to, but it gave her something for her hands to do.

Now that they’d completed the garden harvest, Adan was busy making healing salves to add to the reserves stored in the chantry. Whatever food and supplies hadn’t been taken by the refugees for the return journey to their homes had been moved indoors for winter. Everyone assured her this early snowfall was anything but normal, but it didn’t make her feel any better knowing what a long winter they had ahead of them.

She shoved the unfinished knitting into a small bag on her bed and bundled up in her winter clothes.

Haven was unnaturally quiet. The majority of the village had gone to the temple ruins, the only people left were those without military training or those who remained behind to protect the village.

When she arrived at the apothecary, neither Adan nor his assistant were anywhere to be found, only a number of large boxes of health salves with a note requesting her to move them into storage. The large container of salves was slightly too big for her to comfortably carry on her own, a fact she didn’t discover until she was attempting to close the door to the apothecary behind her.

With a heavy sigh, she turned to set the box next to door when the load was lifted away from her. She looked up into a playful pair of emerald green eyes, the golden flecks in them catching the afternoon sun. She gave Dorian a dazzling smile as she thanked him for his assistance.

“My dear, I could not leave you in distress. Where shall I take this?”

“To the chantry.” She pushed the partially closed door back open. “I’ll grab another box and join you.”

“Do hurry. Every minute without you is agony,” he teased, his mustache twitching as he attempted to keep a straight face.

She rushed back inside and grabbed a smaller container of Adan’s salves before she joined Dorian outside. “Lead the way,” he told her, with as much flourish as he could muster under the heavy load.

They traveled quickly through the town, the usually bustling hub conspicuously devoid of people. There was an anticipation in the air that felt almost corporeal, as though those remained were simply waiting to see what happened next. 

Ariana hadn’t been here for the first attempt, but she’d been told the pride demon that emerged through the tear in the Veil had been more powerful than anyone had been expecting.

Rylen had taken the templars to the ruins with her sister and the mages while Cullen remained behind with the troops to defend Haven should the worst come to pass. Ariana couldn’t think about it. If there was a need to defend Haven, then something had gone terribly wrong and she’d have lost her sister.

Again.

It took several trips back and forth to move all the boxes to winter storage. By the time they were done, the sun was hovering just over the top of the mountains, bathing the valley and mountains that surrounded them in a brilliant orange glow.

Out of the side of her eye, she could see Dorian focused intently on her. “Take a photo, it’ll last longer,” she teased.

“It would,” he laughed, before adding, “You know, you are quite different from your sister.”

“Did the color of my eyes give it away?”

“Her eyes are quite shocking… but no, it’s not that.” Ariana opened her mouth to respond, but Dorian continued, “Or the white hair, I will add. Evelyn is… delicate. Like a flower grown in a greenhouse now learning to live under the heat of the summer sun. But you are not like that at all. You are the wildflower born in a storm and it is because of that catastrophe that you bloom.”

She held her breath as she met his eyes. She could see reflected in his what he'd seen in hers.

“It is a comfort to know there are others who bear the scars of their own tragedies,” he added as he gave her a tight smile, “Well, shall we—”

A pillar of intense green light shot up to the swirling hole in the sky and an explosion rang out across the valley. There was a small whoosh as energy flew past them, but it did little more than tousle Dorian’s hair.

Remnants of the tear still swirled in the sky, but the Breach itself was gone. The people of Haven erupted into a cheer, coming out to stare at the now silent sky.

“I’ll never get over her leaving me behind,” he sniffed, tucking the few flyaways back in place.

***

She had done it. The Breach was closed.

The villagers began to celebrate as soon as the Breach disappeared, although it had taken several more hours for Trevelyan and the mages to return from the ruins. Cassandra’s parting words to him—“Protect Haven at all costs”—still rang in his ears as the mages streamed back into the town. Exhausted, but jubilant.

Cullen had not agreed with asking the mages for assistance, but even he could admit their magic had helped. He would breathe easier tonight for the first time in months, but not too easy given the multitude of mages still running around unchecked. Bull’s crew, the Chargers, hadn’t had any success making contact with the Templars. In fact, the entire force had disappeared from the fortress they’d holed up in, which unsettled Cullen. Where had they gone?

As evenfall transitioned into night, the unearthly green glow of the tear in the sky no longer bore down on them. The village celebrated the victory, but something niggled at him, eating away at his brief sense of happiness. He was missing something, he knew he was. All the information was there in front of him, but he couldn’t make sense of it.

Adding to that was lyrium. He’d been craving it, desperate for that sense of wholeness that sweet blue liquid would bring. He’d been anxious to cut ties with his prior life when it became clear that the Templars were no longer an Order he could support, but the lyrium had been their failsafe.

And now, with the mages around, they’d begun receiving more shipments from the dwarves. It was more and more difficult to avoid the stuff entirely. Even though mages used lyrium differently than templars, he knew that he could make do with whatever form he got his hands on.

The thrum of the party pulsed behind him as he stood in front of the gate, staring out at the dark valley, tightening and releasing his hands on the grips of his gun as he tried to fight his desire. More than desire… Need. He needed.

“Commander, you should go inside and enjoy the party.” Rylen’s lilting Marcher voice spoke from next to him. Cullen turned to look at the knight-captain. The man’s tattooed face looked even harder in the pale moonlight.

Cullen shook his head. “You go. You’ve earned it. I’d prefer to be out here anyway.”

“Aww, come on now, Curly.” Varric’s drawl surprised him and he looked behind Rylen to see the dwarven man standing there. “The people are celebrating! It will do them good to see their commander celebrating with them.”

“He’s right.” Rylen’s hand briefly rested on Cullen’s shoulder in encouragement. “I’ll take over the watch, you should be inside with the others.”

They were right. Cullen knew they were. But the ominous feeling that had been hanging over him only intensified. He didn’t know what it was that was bothering him so much… The Breach was closed. No mages had yet succumbed to demonic possession. He’d remained clean...

“Very well,” he sighed as he pulled the strap of the automatic weapon over his head and handed it to Rylen.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Varric cheered.

“Today was a victory, ser. Do try to enjoy yourself.” Rylen winked at him as Cullen turned toward the gate.

When he entered the courtyard, someone handed him a mug of ale. Several people stumbled around, their drinks sloshing over the edges of their mugs. Still more were dancing to the festive tune, twirling around the fire to the merry beat. The whiff he got of the liquid told him it was the high alcohol stuff. Something he’d be avoiding tonight. 

He caught sight of Trevelyan standing on the ledge above the festivities, Solas at her side. She was turned toward the elven man, face upturned as she spoke, smiling. Out of her battle armor, Trevelyan looked softer. Less terrifying.

Solas was tall, for an elven man, standing a full head higher than Trevelyan. He stood looking out across the crowd, calculating eyes surveying the scene in front of him. Every so often Solas nodded at something Trevelyan said, almost imperceptibly.

Cullen made a beeline for one of the benches, set back from the dancing, where he could observe as well. Hopefully out of sight. He set the mug down on the ground beneath the bench and followed Solas’s gaze to the partygoers. 

His eyes were immediately drawn to Ariana. He couldn’t not find her in a crowd. Of course, she’d be out there dancing. Her face was alive as Pavus lifted her off her feet, her black hair flying behind her as he spun her around. Their joy was intoxicating, others following their lead, spinning their dance partners around and joining in the laughter. 

Cullen couldn't help but smile as he watched them. Watched _her_. There was something about her that he couldn’t get out of his mind… Not that he’d tried. Not that he wanted to.

They hadn’t spoken since the day after their return from Redcliffe. That argument still bothered him. Partially because of what she'd insinuated. She was right of course. He had stood by for years as his knight-commander took advantage of innocents. He’d sworn to himself and the Maker he’d never do that again, yet here he was. And she’d rightfully called him on it.

But he was also bothered by the things he'd said to her in response. He’d tried to make it up to her, indirectly, but they’d still spent the past fortnight avoiding each other. By some gift of the Maker, no one had noticed the awkwardness between them as preparations to close the Breach had the entire village distracted.

“You gonna get out there?” Varric nudged him, gesturing toward several women of the village standing nearby, whispering as they peered at him. One fluttered her eyelashes at him when he looked over. 

Cullen spared them little more than a glance before he looked back at the makeshift dance floor. “I don’t dance,” he responded, the smile falling from his face as he watched Blackwall, the Grey Warden Trevelyan found in the Hinterlands, sweep Ariana into his arms for a lively dance. They kept their arms linked as they danced around one another, their laughter rising over the music.

“Oh for Andraste’s sake, Curly, it’s a party. Live a little.”

Cullen watched Ariana spin around the fire with Blackwall. As the music started to wind down, he wondered if he had it in him to ask her to dance. He’d regretted not dancing with her in Orlais, but so much had happened since then, he didn’t think—

Varric cleared his throat, interrupting Cullen’s thoughts. “I think our good doctor might be making a move, you should get going if you want the next dance.”

“I don’t dance.” He noticed Doctor Adan on the edges of the dance floor, watching the same couple Cullen himself had been keeping an eye on.

“You should. The song is ending. Go!” Varric gave him another more forceful nudge this time.

“All right.” He felt the flush creeping across his neck at how easily Varric had seen through him. Before he could talk himself out of it, he forced his legs to carry him toward the dance floor.

Ariana turned to face him as Blackwall released her. Her pale grey eyes were alive, the reflection of the bonfire playfully dancing in them. Her skin was flushed and her chest heaved as she strained to slow her breathing from the exertion.

A low note sounded as Cullen held out his hand to her, the question unspoken. Her eyes sparkled as she placed her hand in his and stepped toward him. He pulled her closer, one arm wrapping tightly around her waist as they began to move around the fire in time with the music. With her in his arms, the movements of the dance were almost familiar, like a long forgotten memory. Words weren’t needed as they gazed into each other’s eyes, the world melting away around them, their bodies perfectly synchronized as they moved.

Now that he’d held her, he knew that his life would never be the same again. It felt so natural with his arms around her waist, their bodies pressed together, her arms around his neck…

She looked up at him and the world around them disappeared. It was only the two of them, here with each other. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips and his eyes tracked the movement, wondering what she would taste like when he kissed her. She angled her face toward his. He lowered his toward hers. His heart was racing, beating almost out of his chest. A hand slid up her back to pull her closer. One slid down his chest to rest on his furiously beating heart. All the while they gazed into each other's eyes drawing closer and closer together until his lips hovered a mere whisper above her own.

A whistling noise sounded in the distance and the ground quaked beneath them. His senses shot into overdrive as he gripped Ariana to keep her from losing her footing on the trembling earth.

The metallic clang of the warning bells ripped through Haven. He looked out across the valley that had been so peaceful minutes before and saw lights dotting the mountainside. He could just make out the shape of incoming shells as more whistling sounded, barely audible over the screams. Each whistle was closer than the last as the accompanying blasts rocked the village.

Ariana’s eyes widened with terror.

“Get to the chantry now!” He urged as he released her, before running toward the main gate. “Forces approaching! To arms!”

***

The magic of the moment was shattered when she was almost thrown off her feet. Cullen’s strong arms kept her upright as chaos erupted around them. He’d told her to get to the chantry before disappearing in the direction of the main gate, her sister and Seeker Pentaghast following closely behind him.

Ariana was rooted to the spot as other people swarmed around her, rushing toward safety. Someone tugged on her arm. “Come on, Princess, let’s get inside.” Varric’s words snapped her out of her daze. She’d dealt with scared people before. Maybe not people under attack, but scared nonetheless.

Cullen’s instruction to get to the chantry meant the old stone structure was likely the most defensible. Most of their resources were already inside, but the village was a treasure trove of supplies beyond what they’d already stored. She began grabbing people as they passed, asking them to find as many supplies as they could carry from their homes.

Remembering the tiny shop set up inside the gates, she recruited several other villagers to help her grab whatever they could carry. She found a large backpack and began shoving inside anything she could get her hands on.

The wind picked up, the snow swirling around, biting at her ankles, as the attackers advanced down the mountainside. She could hear them approaching, the rumbling of their heavy machinery reverberating through the ground.

“Inquisition!”

A voice rang out, reaching her over the wall. Cullen’s voice was loud and clear. She’d seen him working with his troops, but this was a different side. Now he was leading them into battle. He sounded completely in control.

“With the Herald!”

The backpack was full. Any more and she risked losing it all. She wildly looked around for something else to carry, but she was running out of time.

“For your lives!”

She swiped a basket of lyrium philters from the table, praying that she didn’t crush any in her haste.

“For all of us!”

The Inquisition’s forces let out a roar that followed Ariana as she fled toward the safety of the chantry. Once safely inside, she ensured the supplies were added to their stores before sinking onto her knees in front of the statue of Andraste. She didn’t believe in the Maker, not after what she'd been through, but she prayed anyway for those who did believe.

Leliana and Josephine stood in the antechamber, whispering, their faces frantic as explosions sounded around them. Villagers and refugees huddled together. Some cried. Some prayed. Some paced back and forth as the sounds of battle inched closer and closer. 

Ariana couldn’t sit there without doing anything, so she began taking inventory of the supplies they’d managed to gather, reorganizing as necessary. She didn’t know how much time had passed when the doors finally burst open and more people poured in.

A loud screech sounded outside and Ariana saw what looked like fire blasting from the sky. The Iron Bull stood at the doorway, ushering people inside, excitedly talking to his lieutenant. “A dragon! The Templars have a dragon!”

“Not a dragon, Chief, an archdemon,” Krem corrected.

Ariana felt her stomach drop. Had she heard correctly? They were being attacked by the Templars? What had happened to provoke them to such an extreme measure? And how did they have an archdemon? It had only been ten years since the last Blight… None of it made sense.

More people poured into the building and she held her breath as she searched each new face. Ten, twenty, one hundred faces passed… Amongst the faces of the villagers she’d come to know, she didn’t see the person she’d been looking for. Well, either of them.

Relief flooded through her when she spotted Cullen’s disheveled golden hair as he strode into the chantry, hands firm on the weapon strapped around his chest. The sea of people parted in front of him, clearing a path to the other advisors. With each step, his eyes darted around the room. Whether he was counting people or looking for someone, she wasn’t sure.

At least, she hadn’t been until his eyes settled on her and he took in a deep, slow breath. She could see the relief at finding her here, safe in the chantry, and she was certain her eyes were telling him the same. He allowed his gaze to linger longer than necessary, before he continued on toward where the other advisors were huddled.

What felt like hours passed, even though it was likely not even minutes, before her sister arrived, Solas at her side. The doors of the chantry were pulled firmly closed behind her.

Cullen approached Evelyn and they stood near the door arguing with a young man and Chancellor Roderick. Ariana was annoyed the man had even stayed in Haven and now here he was, arguing again.

Ariana inched closed, thinking she might be able to distract the chancellor.

“Herald, there are no tactics that make this survivable.” Cullen’s voice was unexpectedly loud as the whispers around them quieted to find out what was happening. A pit settled in Ariana’s stomach as she realized the reality of what he was saying. That they would die here in this crumbling stone building as the advancing army slaughtered them.

She wouldn’t wait around for that to happen. She would prepare as much as she could in case there was something, anything they could do to prevent it. In case there was some way to fight it or in case there was some way out of here.

She was packing an escape bag in her room when she heard Cullen’s voice through her open door. It was his commander voice—loud, clear and imposing. The Maker had shown them the Pilgrim’s Path, a way out of Haven. A way to escape. He was giving instructions on how they would evacuate, as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Soldiers emerged from the dungeon with weapons and communications equipment. Tents were secured onto the backs what few pack animals they’d had in the village, probably from the refugees. Food and medical supplies were added into people’s backpacks or rolled out using handcarts. Those who were ready began to exit through a hidden door at the back of the war room. 

As people emptied out into the bitterly cold night, she realized she hadn’t seen her sister except for that one brief moment. A quick search of the building told her that Evelyn wasn’t inside.

The advisors were overseeing the escape of the villagers, so Ariana approached Rylen who stood near the large wooden doors of the chantry. Several soldiers were fitting a beam of wood across the doors, easing it into the metal holds. “Rylen, have you seen my sister?”

He turned toward her, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. “They didn’t tell you?”

Her breath caught in her chest, a painful knot forming. “Tell me what?”

The look on his face was pained as he glanced back toward the doors. “She’s out there.”

The floor dropped out from under her. That couldn't be right. “She’ll die out there!” Ariana heard herself shrieking, but she didn’t care. She hadn’t finally found her sister only to lose her again now.

She ran toward the doors, shoving a soldier out of the way as she threw her shoulder against the beam of wood. It didn’t budge, but all she needed was a little space, if she could just lift it enough to make a small crack—

Strong arms wrapped around her and lifted her off the ground, away from the door. She struggled against them, kicking at the air. “Let me go! I must— I must go,” she screamed, attempting to twist out of the arms that bound her.

“Stop… struggling…” The Iron Bull gritted out as he carried her away, toward the back of the chantry. 

“No, don’t! Please let me go!” She sobbed. Her face was wet with tears, but as a loud thud reverberated through the room, she stopped, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to get through that door no matter what she did.

Bull set her down, his hands lingering on her arms as though he would need to grab her at any second, but Ariana didn’t fight. She sank to her knees and began to sob. The sound bounced off the stone, the almost empty room giving her cries a hollow sound as they echoed throughout the chantry.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright. The Boss is gonna make it through,” Bull said in an awkward attempt to calm her, but Ariana dropped her face into her hands and wept. 

Firm hands wrapped around her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. Ariana sniffled as she looked at Rylen who was kneeling down next to her. “I can’t lose her again,” she sobbed as the tears continued to stream down her cheeks, her breath coming in short gasps.

Her world was collapsing around her. Again. She couldn’t bear it.

“I know.” He wrapped his arms around her in a strong, but gentle hug. Ariana sobbed into his shoulder for several moments before he pulled away from her, lifting her chin to meet his eyes. “She will survive. And so will you.” She choked back another sob as Rylen helped her to her feet. “We have to move. Is there anything you need before we go?” 

Ariana half-heartedly gestured toward her room. Several moments later, Cassandra emerged holding her backpack, heavy winter coat, and extra blankets. “Anything else?” The Seeker asked as she exchanged a worried glance with the knight-captain.

Ariana shook her head as she silently reached for her belongings, wrapping the coat around her shoulders before she let the two soldiers lead her to the exit and out into the darkest night.


	12. Chapter 12

Cullen jolted upright with a start, a shiver overtaking him as the cold air hit his sweat-dampened shirt. Nightmares of their escape from Haven haunted his sleep. The sounds, the smells, the taste of battle in the air...

He was haunted even more by the knowledge that the Templars didn't even hesitate to attack a village of unarmed people... Maker take them. He no longer recognized them. They were not the Order he knew.

Adding to the chaos of his sleep, Ariana's screams echoed in his head. When he closed his eyes, he could see her in that moment, arms and legs flailing as Iron Bull pulled her away from the door. His heart ached for her then, as it ached for her now.

"You okay?" Rylen had his arm thrown across his face. The sun was rising, the first rays of daylight entering through the hole in the roof of their tent, landing right in Rylen’s eyes. His second-in-command had given him grief about the hole the first night as the snow poured in, but dropped the issue at Cullen’s scowl.

"A nightmare," he responded. He pulled off the damp shirt, replacing it with a clean, dry one.

"You have a lot of those," Rylan grumbled as he rolled over, pulling his blanket over his head.

“So would you if you’d seen what I have.” Cullen slid to the edge of his bedroll to begin the morning ritual of putting on his uniform. The ritual was comforting to him, a morning meditation. As piece after piece of his uniform found its way to the correct place, he felt more confident to face the day. With one final check, he donned his coat and slipped through the flap of the tent.

Several people were already milling about the still sleeping camp. The Inquisition had moved slowly in the hopes the Herald would catch up to them, but the search parties had returned empty handed yesterday.

He had been more than disappointed. He hovered on the edge of despondency. Not only had he allowed Haven to be surrounded and attacked, but he’d lost the Herald in the process. He'd been distracted. He should have been on guard, then he would have seen it. He would have known it was coming. He would have been able to warn them, to save them…

Even as he thought it, Cullen knew deep down that wasn't true. Rylen was the best he had and if Rylen hadn't seen it, Cullen wouldn't have either. But how could they have been so blind to _not_ see the attack coming? And from the Templars no less. All the information he’d needed had been right there in front of him, but he hadn’t been able to put the pieces together.

A flash of movement drew his attention and he caught sight of a woman disappearing down the path they’d traveled the day prior. 

Ariana. What was she doing?

They hadn’t spoken since Haven. Not since their argument after Redcliffe. And for that brief moment two nights ago, he’d held her in his arms and finally allowed himself to hope for more. He knew he shouldn't, but she was… unexpected. Beyond the intense physical attraction, she was an enigma he had yet to figure out. An enigma he would happily spend the rest of his life learning. 

When Cullen praised the spymaster for gathering additional supplies, Leliana informed him it was Ariana who’d organized the villagers to do so as the Templars marched on Haven. Without her foresight, the Inquisition would have been in a much worse state right now. But as it was, they had enough supplies to last them several weeks as they trudged through the Frostbacks.

The guilt of that night, of not being prepared… of not seeing it coming. Maker, he should have done more… Been more prepared. He could have dispatched the Chargers sooner, could have prevented it. If only he’d been _more_. Then Haven wouldn't be buried, the Herald wouldn't be lost, and…

Damn it. He’d lost sight of her as she disappeared around a bend. He increased his pace as he followed her, keeping track of her movements.

She picked her way carefully down the mountain path, stopping every so often to attach a piece of ribbon to a tree. The ribbons were inconspicuously tied, their green fabric disappearing into the foliage of the trees and bushes she adhered them to. 

Although, after she tied that last ribbon, he’d noticed her tuck a small bottle of blue liquid—_lyrium_—into the snow beneath it.

“What are you doing out here alone?” He called after her. She’d wandered far enough from the camp that no one would have even heard her scream if something happened to her.

She spun around to face him, her eyes widening a fraction before narrowing at him. “Leaving a trail.”

"I see that.” He stepped toward the last ribbon she’d placed, this one blue, letting his fingers run over it. Clever. He removed his hand from the ribbon and looked back toward her. “A trail useful for lost mages.” 

"I knew you would recognize them,” she sniffed, turning her back on him and continuing down the path. 

“I didn’t.” He trailed behind her again, watching her progress as she continued to tie up the ribbons. “It’s so simple.”

“Simple?” She spun around and held up the handful of ribbons, shaking them at his face. “I thought you were a templar! Can you not feel it?”

He stopped and looked at the bundle in her hand. Now that she'd said it, he _could_ sense it. It was faint, prickling at the edges of his awareness, but it was there nonetheless. “Where did you get those?”

She chewed on her lower lip as she thought about her answer. She shrugged. “Dorian helped me.”

“How did he know what to do?"

“Because I explained it to him.”

“And who explained it to you?” 

She gave him a long look. A look that hesitated, full of mistrust, but also of… sadness. He realized what name she was going to say before she opened her mouth. 

They spoke at the same time. “Anders.”

She lifted her eyebrows in surprise, but he continued, “You knew Anders?”

“Of course I knew Anders! One could not be involved and not know him.” 

“How well?”

“He was my friend.” 

“Friend?" The next words were out of mouth before he could catch himself. "Do you keep many abominations as _friends_?”

She rolled her eyes. “Anders was my friend. Justice was… what he was.” She looked down at the ribbons still in her hands and then back down the trail. “Now, if you’d please excuse me, I need to finish so I can get back.”

“May I... accompany you?” He asked, despite the near hostility she'd given him this morning. He didn't know where it had come from, especially after the other night. Despite it, he refused to leave her alone out here. If she said no, he'd follow anyway.

“Do I have a choice?” She sighed. They continued several yards in silence as Ariana continued to tie up the ribbons, adding a small bottle of lyrium underneath every so often.

“Does the Herald know these signs?” Cullen asked. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted as she tied up the last ribbon and surveyed the land around her. “I hoped she’d have heard the whispers in Ostwick. But even if not, it’s worth trying.”

“Why are you doing this now? Why not put them up as we travel?” 

“Too obvious. I don’t want anyone to know what I’m doing.” She started back up the path toward the camp. It would be a long trek, they’d covered much of the ground the Inquisition had passed the preceding day. 

As they walked, Cullen thought about her annoyance with his presence. It was the first time they'd spoken in weeks, but the other night, she'd… Maybe he'd imagined it. Maybe she had only been humoring him by dancing with him and the rest had been in his head. He'd probably made it awkward when he'd almost kissed her. Maker's breath, that would explain the discomfort this morning, her desire to get away from him.

She stopped walking at the outskirts, away from the early morning bustle as the villagers broke down the camp for the day’s journey. “Commander, I trust that you will not interfere with what I’m doing?” 

“Interfere? Why would I do that? I want to find the Herald as much as you do.” 

“I very much doubt that.”

She was right, of course. From what he knew of her more than a decade long search for her sister, of the pain and desperation she had shown that night in Haven... 

He sighed, “Of course. But I do hope to locate her. And soon.”

Ariana gave him an appraising look, measuring him up, before she turned to leave. 

He reached out to stop her, but pulled his hand back before he touched her, mindful not to make her even more uncomfortable. “Bann Trevelyan, if there is anything I can do to assist…”

She gave him a silent nod before striding away. 

***

It had been another long night as the screams of the dead and dying continued to echo in his dreams. They should have been prepared. He should have seen it coming. They’d known about the Elder One from what transpired at Redcliffe. From the Herald’s report. He should have taken that threat more seriously. He should have known. _He should have known_.

And now… Now they were lost in the Frostbacks. Without a leader. Without even a cause.

He’d set up daily searches, sending scouts and patrols back over the path they’d walked, fanning out to cover more ground, as they sought the Herald. 

Solas insisted she was still alive, somewhere, although he couldn’t quite locate her. Even though the casual use of magic made him uncomfortable, it always would, the bann’s idea to use a magical beacon of sorts inspired him to speak further with the doctor about other magical means to seek Trevelyan out.

The elven man had been pleased Cullen asked and spent several hours explaining exactly how the Fade could help in locating her. Cullen didn’t understand the precise mechanics of how Solas would manage it, nor did he want to, but they would try that evening.

Solas made himself scarce, disappearing as the sun hovered above the ridge line of the mountains, while Cullen found himself pacing in front of the makeshift war table. He’d spent the better part of the day standing around it, arguing with the other advisors on what happened next.

It had been three days and Cullen felt the desperation of the Inquisition—and of himself—rising. His self control was slipping. The philters of lyrium that Ariana had thoughtfully left for her sister sang to him, calling him. It would be so easy to slip away, right now, under the cover of darkness, and—

“Commander!” He jumped at Solas’s excited voice behind him. “I’ve located her.”

“Show me.” 

Solas indicated back up the mountain pass they had traversed that day. The sun had finally slipped behind the mountains and darkness would be descending rapidly, along with the nightly temperature. Another night in the snow might kill her.

“Seeker! Searchers!” Cullen bellowed as began running up the path to which Solas had pointed, the others right behind him. As they approached the ridge, Cullen instructed them to fan out and look for her. Thank the Maker there was not too much ground to cover, especially with darkness overtaking them. 

“Commander! Look over there!” Cassandra’s voice cut through his thoughts. He could barely make out a dark shape in the snow.

It was her. 

Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he reached her and picked up her unconscious frame. Adrenaline spurred him onward, back downhill toward the camp. He needed to get her to safety. To warmth. Even though the layers he could feel that she was cold… Too cold.

They couldn't lose her. Without her, they wouldn't survive this. Without her, they were nothing. 

_Andraste, give your herald strength_, he prayed with each step, the words a mantra as he pressed on toward the camp.

When he finally arrived, the camp was alive with activity, everyone having heard the commotion, anxiously awaiting their arrival. As soon as they appeared, whispers began spreading through the crowd.

“It’s the Herald!”

“She’s alive!”

“Truly Andraste has blessed her!”

He began toward the tent they’d set up as an infirmary, reaching the small tent in seconds. As he laid Trevelyan onto the single cot, he finally got a good look at her. She was so frail, her usually warm skin pale in the cold mountain air, lips tinted blue, and the tips of her eyelashes covered in frost.

Other people swarmed around until Doctor Adan shouted for them all to leave while he and Solas checked over her. Cullen gave Trevelyan's hand a squeeze, willing her to be strong, to survive this. She had to. She _had_ to. There was no other option.

_Andraste, hear my plea_.

Outside the tent, a large crowd gathered, whispering excitedly. Josephine was imploring the people to allow the Herald to rest and recover given the events of the preceding days, but her requests fell on deaf ears. Cullen didn't want to be here anymore, not around all these people.

As the adrenaline seeped from his body, Cullen felt exhaustion overtaking him. Trevelyan was in good hands now and he might finally be able to sleep. He began the short trek toward his tent, exhaustion sinking it’s hooks into his body as though he were moving underwater.

“Commander! A moment!” Ariana's voice slightly wavered as she called out from behind him.

He turned to face her, watching her approach with leaping steps as she attempted to run through the snow. When she finally reached him, he could hear her heavy breaths even though he couldn’t see her face. She was backlit by the glow of the camp, a silhouette in the snow. “Solas told me about your… request.” 

Cullen stiffened. “He wasn’t to do that.”

“Well, it was a good idea. Thank you.” She rubbed her hands on her upper arms, imitating warmth. It was cold tonight. Thank the Maker they'd found the Herald when they had, otherwise she might not have—

“I know your opinions on magic and…" Ariana let out an even breath. "I am grateful you put that aside for my sister.” 

If only he could tell her that it was as much for her as it was for the Herald. But he couldn't. “Of course, Bann. Good night.” 

He began to turn away, wanting her to get out of the frigidity of the mountain night, back to her sister’s side where she belonged, but her voice stopped him again. “Cullen?” 

The sound of his name washed over him like sun-warmed honey, illicitly stolen from the hives on those hot summer days in Honnleath. He took a deep breath and turned back toward her, noticing the way she rubbed her hands together as she shivered.

Damn it. He couldn't watch her freeze. He stepped toward her, taking her hands in his own. “You’re shivering. You should be inside.”

When she didn't pull away, Cullen's heart began that erratic beat that always seemed to happen around her. It was a risk, but he brought her hands toward his chest, tucking them inside the zipper of his jacket. Even though he couldn’t see her face, she could see him and he knew she was watching, waiting to see what happened next.

For several long moments, as his heart beat wildly under her hands, neither of them so much as took a breath. 

Then she ever so tentatively stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his back, pressing her face into his shoulder. 

Within moments, she was shaking again, but this time not from the cold. Bloody void, she was crying. Cullen wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

The urge to protect her, to fix what was wrong, began to overwhelm him. He wanted to tell her it would be all right, but he didn't know if it would be. She hadn’t asked for anything. All he knew was she felt safe enough with him to let her guard down, to let him hold her as she cried. She trusted him enough to let him see her like this. 

At the realization, his heart whispered words of hope once again.

After several long moments, she sniffed and pulled away from him, uncomfortably clearing her throat as she wiped at her face. “I... don’t know what came over me, but… thank you.” 

“Always.” He still couldn’t see her face, but he could have sworn she smiled before she turned and headed back toward her tent. Cullen watched her, making sure she made it safely inside, before he turned and headed toward his own.

That night, for the first time since they’d been forced out of Haven, the stars in the night sky shone through the hole in the roof of his tent.

***

In those days after they’d found her, Ariana rarely left her sister’s side. Both her physical and magical energy had been almost entirely depleted. The elven doctor felt confident that Evelyn would awaken, but at this point all they could do was wait.

Ariana spent those days sitting with her, leaving only when the doctors came to check on her. Solas had an unfortunate habit of arriving minutes before the sun rose, sending Ariana out into the cold mountain dawn. She used that time to wander, to explore their surroundings, and to think. To sit in the quiet with herself was something she had once feared, but she had become grateful for the time alone, crowded as the camp was.

Solas had been correct. Evelyn did wake, although it was still several days more before she had enough strength to even stand. The doctors continued to visit every day as they waited for her body to heal.

When Evelyn finally had her strength back, Ariana could tell something had shifted in her sister. Whatever she’d experienced at Haven had not broken her. 

Ariana watched as her sister, tempered by her experiences, finally began to lead the Inquisition. Where the other advisors argued and wavered, she made decisions and pushed them all forward.

It had been years since Ariana thought about the fact that her sister, as the eldest Trevelyan, was intended to be the Bann of Southwatch. The woman she’d met in Haven would never have made it, but this new Evelyn, this woman who would bend under pressure and be stronger for it, would have thrived.

It may not be the familial estate, but the Inquisition was more than a worthy cause to lead. She hadn’t thought so, at first, but in the months since Ariana had been with the Inquisition, she’d seen them righting the wrongs of Thedas. Andraste might have nothing to do with it, but the Inquisition was doing the work every other nation preferred to ignore.

Ariana continued her morning wanderings even after her sister healed and the doctors no longer made regular morning visitors. It was in the quiet of the early morning grey that she would think about the past, of what had happened in the preceding weeks, and finally of the future. 

Where did they go from here? Where did _she_ go from here?

She’d tried her phone once, in the first days, but there was no cellular reception in this remote wilderness. The entire camp reverted back to the days before technological advancement. They moved on foot through the mountainous forests day after day, slept in tents they pitched each night, and cooked over fires of gathered wood. 

Now that they’d been out here for several weeks, Ariana had given up hope they would be rescued. It seemed no one was even looking for them.

If they wanted to survive, they would have to save themselves. The supplies they’d brought were quickly depleting. She knew that if they didn’t make it out of these mountains soon, they would die out here. Harvestmere was more than halfway over. Winter would only get worse.

It was one of these early mornings while Ariana wandered that she spotted the commander in the distance. He was sitting on a large boulder staring out across the mountains. He sat perfectly still, the morning breeze rustling his hair every so often.

Something tugged at her heart as she watched him.

It had been more than a week since that night she’d broken down in front of him. More than a week since he’d held her and given her the space to be vulnerable. And even more than that, he’d… protected it. He’d not tried to solve her problems or offer advice, he’d just held her. He had known exactly what she needed. And even more, when she was in his arms, it felt like everything was going to be okay. It felt like she didn’t have to do it all alone. She felt... safe.

When it mattered, he had been there. She cherished that for the precious gift that it was.

He was not the man she thought he was when she arrived in Haven. Maybe he had been once. Rumors come from somewhere. But in the months that she’d grown to learn more about him, she’d seen the depths of his compassion, of his kindness, and of his gentleness. He cared and he cared deeply. Now that she’d seen it, that depth is what drew her toward him.

In the earliest days it had been purely physical. The attraction had been so overwhelming that she’d been unable to think of little else. That hadn’t changed. She was still very much attracted to him, but now there was more to it than that. The glimpses of the man underneath had drawn her in. 

She could very much see herself falling for him. She wanted Cullen in a way she'd never wanted before. She wanted to be consumed by him, to be his beginning and end, to be _everything_. 

And that was a dangerous and terrifying thought.

She swore she would never again allow herself to become so wrapped in another person. Desire she could handle, but not the emotions that were coming up right now, unbidden and uncomfortable in their intensity. She had to get them under control because she would not be able to survive another loss of that magnitude.

So she tried to keep as distant as possible, which meant avoiding him. Usually. 

But at this moment, as she watched him sitting on that rock staring out across the Frostbacks, she felt herself drawn toward the sunny patch he’d found. It was, of course, to get away from the endless cold, she convinced herself, purposefully ignoring the warning bells going off inside her head as she sat down next to him on the sun-warmed stone. 

Surprise spread across his face when he glanced at her. It had been more than a week since they’d last spoken any more than passing pleasantries.

“Hello.” She gave him a shy smile as she stretched out her legs, the dark fabric of her slacks soaking in the warmth. He moved over a short distance to make more space for her on the boulder.

“Hi,” he told her, before the two of them sat there in silence as they stared across the mountain landscape. 

Ariana felt the increasing awkwardness of the moment, saved when Cullen cleared his throat and asked, “How have— um, how are you?”

“As well as any of us, I suppose.” She glanced over at him, studying the lines of his face. He looked tired, more tired than she’d seen him before. “And you?” 

“I’m well, thank you.” The edges of his lips turned up in an attempt to smile, but it fell flat.

“Truly?”

He sighed, “There’s no need to concern yourself on my behalf, Bann Trevelyan. I will be fine.” 

Ariana noted that he was avoiding her eyes as he stared out across the landscape. She opened her mouth to press him, but he spoke before she could. “Do you see that tower?” He asked, focused on some point in the distance.

Ariana squinted in the general direction, almost making out the dark grey stones of a tower. “I think so. Although… It could be an illusion?”

“It could be,” he agreed. 

Finally, he turned to face her, his amber eyes focusing on hers sending an unfamiliar sensation through her. He gave her another attempt at a smile, before he moved to slide off the rock. 

She laid her hand on his arm to stop him, another intense feeling careening around inside of her as she felt the heat of his body through his clothes.

Cullen stiffened, his back ramrod straight, but he made no further movement to leave.

“A truth for a truth, Commander?” He turned back toward her, the question in his eyes. She continued, “You answer my question truthfully and… I’ll do the same to yours.”

“What is the question?” He slowly asked as he considered her request.

She shook her head. “Anything, but you have to agree first.”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” she confirmed.

Cullen studied her face and she could almost see his thoughts as he attempted to work through what she was trying to get at. Finally, he gave a slight shrug of agreement and settled back onto the rock. “Your question?”

“How are you truly?”

He sighed again and looked up toward the sky. “We set up as best we could at Haven, but we could never prepare for an archdemon—or whatever it was. With some warning we might have—”

“That’s not an answer,” she interrupted. 

Cullen turned to look at her, gazing at her for several long moments as though he wasn’t sure how much he should say. With a long breath, he told her, “I can’t stop thinking about it. And at night…” He shook his head, looking back out at the mountains.

“How many were lost?” She gently pressed.

“Very little, given the circumstances.”

“So most of us survived?”

When he turned to look at her, his eyes were forlorn. “None of us will survive if we don’t get out of these mountains.”

“Then we shall have to save ourselves. I’m sure you’ve faced far worse than the Frostbacks.” It was meant to be a lighthearted comment, but by the way his jaw clenched and a haunted look appeared in his eyes, Ariana knew she’d miscalculated. “I… What I meant was—”

“I have. It's worth remembering.” He gave her a tired smile. “My turn then?”

Ariana nodded, watching him decide on the question he wanted to ask. They stared at each other for several, loud beats of her heart. Cullen took a breath.

“Commander!” Evelyn and Solas stood on the ridge line. Her sister was waving her arms excitedly as she shouted, “Commander! Come see what we’ve found!” 

Cullen gave Ariana a regretful look as he slid off the rock and joined them.


	13. Chapter 13

According to Solas, the abandoned fortress they'd discovered was called Skyhold. Or, at the very least, that was the most modern interpretation of the old Elvhen name.

When she’d crested the ridge behind the others, spotting the fortress rising out of the snow covered mountains, Ariana hadn’t quite believed it was real. The tower Cullen had been staring at did indeed exist. One of the many watchtowers that dotted the landscape around their newly discovered fortress.

Skyhold had been abandoned and entirely forgotten by history.

Everyone had been shocked that Evelyn led them straight to a new stronghold. One that, by the calculating look on Cullen’s face as he inspected the walls, would be much more strategic than Haven.

Even more incredible was that Skyhold received a steady cellular signal. By the end of their arrival day, Leliana had taken over the top floor of the rotunda—a room they called the Rookery because of the empty bird cages strung from the ceiling—and had set up communications with the outside world.

It was the first anyone had heard of survivors from the complete obliteration of Haven. Rescue efforts had been unsuccessful and the world had given up hope they’d locate any survivors. Instead, they’d turned their focus on recovering bodies from the wreckage.

Josephine had woven a beautiful story that became front page news across Thedas about the plight of their escape and subsequent arrival at Skyhold.

Although they'd been here almost a fortnight, they still didn’t have electricity or running water, but a delivery of generators from Ferelden helped power the essentials and water from the river was enough for them to survive.

Ariana had to admit she was tired of living in a tent and taking baths out of buckets with water boiled over an open fire. She didn’t normally consider herself spoiled, but this was a considerable step down even from the conditions at Haven.

Josephine lovingly called it rustic, but Ariana agreed with Dorian's description. It was downright medieval.

Thankfully, repairs were already underway on the dilapidated structure. Once word had gotten out that the Inquisition was alive and well and located at Skyhold, more faithful streamed in each day, eager to assist.

Cullen secured the assistance of several Ferelden and Orlesian construction firms for the repairs, with the survivors and newcomers eagerly lending a helping hand in the rebuilding effort.

Ariana continued her morning walks, although now she took them along the ramparts, the walkway above the high walls that would have prevented invaders from accessing the keep in the past. In their modern world of helicopters and heavy siege equipment, she doubted they would be much use, but… they might. She had no clue. Warfare wasn’t her area of expertise.

She ran her hands along the fortress walls, the wind biting as it whipped through the valley, cut over millennia from the same river that now provided water to Skyhold. She could feel the energy of this place, a subtle thrum that seemed to pulse as though it were breathing. As though it were alive.

Evelyn told her the Veil was thin here. Over dinner the previous night, sitting on a makeshift bench around the campfire in the courtyard, Evelyn had explained the basics of the Fade and how some places had a thinner barrier than others.

Her sister hadn’t been formally allowed to focus on Fade studies during her time in the Circle, but one of her professors was an elven man from a Dalish tribe with rudimentary experience in Fade-walking. He'd taught what he knew to his brightest student. More recently, Solas noted Evelyn’s aptitude and took her under his tutelage.

Ariana didn’t even pretend to understand what was involved in magical studies, but the enthusiasm with which her sister explained the specifics of the Fade and the Veil, Ariana knew that it was something she deeply cared about and someone who shared that enthusiasm.

Evelyn and Solas were often inseparable. If they weren’t out on a mission together, they could be found bent over a book together or honing their magical skills in the courtyard. What little amount of time Ariana had spent with the elven doctor, she found that she enjoyed his company well enough. There was something intriguing about him, something that didn’t quite add up when she tried to put it all together.

Ariana’s phone pinged, drawing her from her thoughts. She pulled it out of her pocket, finding Jean-Luc’s name in her notifications. Once they’d arrived at Skyhold and Ariana had charged her phone, she’d gotten the frantic messages, both text and voice, that he’d left for her. The messages had reduced in frequency until they finally faded to silence as the days passed and he’d assumed she’d perished at Haven with the rest of the village.

When the news of their survival broke and she’d finally called him, his relief at her survival was almost palpable. He tried to talk her into moving to Val Royeaux while the Inquisition modernized the fortress, but Ariana refused. Now that she’d been through what she had, how could she ever consider leaving? The Inquisition had become her home, no matter where they were located.

With a sigh, she unlocked her phone and pulled up the message.

> _JL: Do you have plans for Satinalia?_

His visit was now almost two months past. With all that had happened since, it felt like a lifetime ago. She liked him well enough and, to some degree even loved him or… at least she had. He had been a friend and companion when she’d needed one the most.

But whatever love she'd had for Jean-Luc was comfortable. The man did not brighten her days or set fire to her dreams. No. There was another man, one with a pair of fine amber eyes, who'd managed to spark something in her she'd never felt.

Ariana had had enough time to think in the intervening weeks. Even though the force of her emotions terrified her, she wanted to see if maybe, just maybe, there could be something there.

If she had any hope of something developing, it was time to be clearer with Jean-Luc.

Ariana tapped out a quick reply and tucked the phone back into her pocket, looking out at the valley below.

Two camps had been established next to the river: one for the soldiers and another for the civilians. The civilian camp had started from the survivors who’d come with them from Haven, but had quickly morphed into a camp of all the faithful who’d traveled to join the ranks of the Inquisition.

Her phone began buzzing and she pulled it back out, a photo of her with Jean-Luc flashing across the screen as it rang. It was a photo from that night in Val Royeaux, after she’d called him in a fit of pique when she’d learned Cullen already had dinner plans. It hadn’t been the most mature reaction, but she felt everything with such vehemence when it came to the commander.

“_Salut_, Jean-Luc,” she answered in Orlesian.

“Come to Verchiel with me. I want you to meet my uncle.”

“I can’t—”

“I will not take no for an answer,” he interrupted.

“You'll have to. We’re doing Satinalia cakes. It’s… tradition.”

It was a long-standing tradition of House Trevelyan was to bake Satinalia cakes for their tenants. In her youth, the family would spend one weekend prior to Satinalia baking them. Presents were passed around first thing the morning of Satinalia proper, before they headed out into their lands to gift the cakes to their people. Although Ariana had been the only one who’d kept it up for the past decade, it only seemed fitting for them to continue it here for the people under the protection of the Inquisition.

As soon as her sister finished her morning war council, a routine she’d established since taking on the mantle of Inquisitor the previous week, they’d set up in the courtyard, outside the future tavern, to bake as many cakes as possible. They wouldn’t be as good as if they’d aged them, carefully pouring genuine Starkhaven whiskey over the dry cake to keep it moist, but they would have to work with what they had this year.

Ariana had checked in with her steward to ensure that the cakes would still be baked and delivered to her people in the Free Marches, with a note of her gratitude for their prayers and well wishes over the preceding weeks.

“Allo?” Jean-Luc’s voice crackled through the earpiece.

“I'm here," she told him as she took several steps back toward the keep. "Sorry, I'm a bit far from the cell tower.”

“Do you need more communications equipment? I will take care of that if you do.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I know I do not,” he told her, “But my people will be in touch. See what is needed.”

And there it was. There was a price for everything in the Game. Ariana wondered what Jean-Luc had in mind as a fair exchange for this “gift.”

“Thank you,” she told him, tamping down the unease that had settled in her chest. “That’s rather generous.”

“Not at all.”

Silence stretched across the line. Ariana couldn't think of anything to say to this man who knew more about her than almost anyone. At least, the girl she'd once been, even if not fully the woman she'd become.

“I should go…” Ariana trailed off.

“Very well. I will call you tomorrow. _Bisous_,” Jean-Luc rang off and the line went dead.

Ariana sighed as she slipped the phone back into her pocket. Tomorrow was Satinalia. She needed to put the finishing touches on her gifts.

Dorian had found Ariana the perfect old book on the Free Marches with a damaged cover. Ariana had replaced the cover, decorating the new one with an embroidered design of their ancestral lands at Southwatch. Bonny Sims, a recently arrived merchant from Val Royeaux, had promised she's get the missing color of thread Ariana needed to finish tonight. It was the last piece outstanding.

Evelyn had been preparing her own Satinalia gifts in the preceding weeks as well. Ariana watched her sister's preparations and couldn’t help but be in awe of the woman her sister had become: A mage of considerable talent. Herald of Andraste. Inquisitor. And incredibly crafty in the most literal sense.

She’d collected feathers on their journey through the Frostbacks, shaping several of the prettiest into quills for Josephine. She’d purchased a pot of basic black ink that she’d then enchanted to a shimmering mass of rainbow ink, the color changing depending on the viewing angle. Ariana hadn’t know their ambassador was an avid calligrapher, but procured a handcrafted journal for her own gift to her friend.

For Leliana, Evelyn spent long nights under a candle sewing a plush nug by hand. With a simple sounding enchantment, the life-sized toy made cooing noises when squeezed. Not knowing what might go well with a stuffed nug, Ariana found a pair of fashionable Orlesian shoes in their spymaster’s size from Bonny Sims.

And for Cullen, Evelyn had taken a variety of found items, like pinecones and stones, and painted them either white or black, creating a small chess set. It was the perfect gift. Ariana hadn't known that Cullen played chess, but it made perfect sense with his patient nature, quiet observations, and ability to plan strategically for each outcome. 

Ariana's own gift for him had been tucked away for weeks in the bottom of her bag, waiting for the right time to give him. Satinalia was as good a time as any.

Ariana wrapped her coat more tightly around her body and hurried down the stairs. Her sister’s meeting would be over soon and there was much to be done before she could devote her entire afternoon to baking.

***

The morning of Satinalia dawned as cold as any had yet been at Skyhold. Time moved steadily toward winter, made all the more harsh this high up in the Frostbacks, which only compounded the urgent need to complete repairs.

Cullen had only realized that today was Satinalia when Trevelyan burst into that morning’s war council balancing a stack of gifts. He had no idea when she’d found the time to make them. They’d been at Skyhold less than two weeks. Before that had been the chaos of their escape from Haven and wanderings through the mountains.

But she’d managed. And, Cullen noted, Trevelyan’s gift to each of her advisors was flawless. He’d been touched by the chess set she’d created of found items, especially since he’d never mentioned his love of the game to her. Trevelyan had an innate understanding of people that was remarkable, something that only added to her being the obvious choice for Inquisitor.

Cullen grumbled at the paperwork that kept appearing on his makeshift desk, the never-ending nature of his work all the more urgent with winter’s imminent arrival. He had to get the people out of tents, wire the keep with electricity, figure out a way to run plumbing and—

“Commander!” Delight washed over him at the sound of Ariana’s voice. His heart thudded in his chest as he turned, paperwork forgotten, to watch her make her way down the stairs. She held a small wrapped package in her hand.

Cullen had been grateful for that morning’s reminder of the holiday. He'd immediately rushed off to the new merchant from Val Royeaux in the hopes he could locate a suitable gift for the woman now approaching him.

“Happy Satinalia!"

"Happy Satinalia," he said.

"I… I wanted to give you this.” Ariana held out the wrapped package to him. A curious and unfamiliar sensation tickled the back of his neck as his lips curved up in happiness.

As he took it from her hands, he couldn’t resist giving the package a light squeeze. The paper crinkled and gave way under his fingers. 

"Go ahead," she told him.

He lifted a curious eyebrow at her as he began to unwrap it, watching the way she captured her lower lip between her teeth as he did so.

He dropped the wrapping paper on the desk, leaving a pair of misshapen socks in his hands. She watched his fingers run over the socks, feeling each of the imperfect stitches of varying shapes and sizes.

He realized then what she’d been working on as she knitted alongside the refugees outside of Haven. With each stitch his fingers touched, his heart swelled a little more in knowing how much of herself she’d poured into this seemingly simple gift.

She shifted her weight and that slight movement drew his attention back to her. “I know it’s not much, but…” She began with uncertainty, trailing off and leaving the remaining words unspoken.

Not much? It was the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given him. He’d joked with her about his fondness for socks and she’d not only remembered, but had handcrafted a pair for him.

“It’s perfect.” A whispered reassurance that was spoken so quietly he wondered if she even heard him. But the way her back straightened and relief flooded across her features, he knew she had.

“I have something for you as well,” he told her, reaching for the wrapped gift on top of his desk. Next to hers, his gift was inadequate, but he didn’t want to leave her empty-handed. Not when she had given him so much.

“Here.” Cullen held out the book he’d hastily wrapped that morning, a copy of the _Southern Farmer’s Almanac_.

The edge of her mouth quirked up on amusement as her fingers slid under the edge of the paper and pulled the wrapping aside.

When she read the title, her face broke into a dazzling smile. “Oh come now, Commander, the garden wasn’t that bad,” she teased as she playfully swatted his arm.

Before he could stop himself or second-guess what he was about to do, Cullen captured her hand in his, brushing his thumb over her fingers before lifting them to his lips, pressing a feather-light kiss on her fingertips.

A flush spread over her cheekbones as she held his gaze. For a moment he was tempted to pull her toward him, wrap his arms around her, and finally, _finally_ give her that kiss he so desperately desired. He wanted her more than he’d wanted anything.

“Ari!”

Cullen's back stiffened and Ariana jerked her hand out of his grasp. They both turned to look toward the main gate where Trevelyan was standing, gesturing for her sister to come.

“Ari! We need to get going!” Trevelyan shouted.

She was leaving? No, she couldn't be. He'd heard there had been some pressure for her to relocate to elsewhere in Orlais until the repairs were complete, but he'd not heard she'd agreed to that. “Where are you going?”

“To deliver the Satinalia Day cakes,” Ariana told him, glancing down at the socks he still held in one hand. She cringed as she looked at them. “I used wool from the Anderfels, so they’ll be warm… in theory.”

He smiled as he rubbed his thumb over the smooth wool. “Thank you."

She hesitated a moment, casting a glance toward the gate. “Well, I guess—”

“I haven’t gotten my truth yet.” Cullen surprised himself by saying the words aloud. He’d been considering when he should ask his question and now seemed as good a time as any. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with extended awkwardness at this moment if she said no.

“So you haven’t.” Ariana turned back toward him, her stare unexpectedly intense. The words were spoken carefully. Evenly. “What would you like to know?”

Cullen lifted one hand to the back of his neck as he looked away. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to ask it. He looked down at the handmade socks in his other hand, thinking of the hours she’d put into creating this gift for him.

“That night…” His nostrils flared as he took in a deep breath, then looked up. “I almost kissed you.”

Cullen watched the way her eyes darkened as searched his. They stared at one another and he willed her to say something, anything at all, in response.

“That wasn't a question," she finally said.

“Oh. Ah, would you— well, did you _want_ me to?" He stumbled over his words, feeling the heat of his embarrassment working it's way up his neck. "Kiss you, that is.”

He held his breath as the ghost of a smile appeared at the corners of her lips as she looked back at him. Or maybe that was his imagination. The moment dragged on for several long beats of his heart as his question hung unanswered between them.

“Ariana!” Trevelyan bellowed from the gate. “What in the Maker's name are you doing?”

Cullen couldn’t take the awkwardness any longer. At least he had an answer, even it was her lack of response, and he wouldn't need to wonder. “Well, you’d best get to it then. Happy Satinalia.”

She did smile then. Cullen's heart flipped at the sight. “Yes. I rather hoped you would,” she told him before running toward the entrance.

Relief flooded through him at her response, along with concern, hope, longing, and wonder... He didn't know what to feel in this moment. All of the emotions careened around inside of him.

That she might feel the same, might _want_ the same…

_Maker's breath_.

Cullen pocketed the socks, an unfamiliar sense of happiness rooting itself deep inside of him. With a sigh that was slightly less weary than before, he dug into the piles of paperwork strewn across his makeshift desk.

***

Ariana clutched the book as she raced toward the main gate, her heart hammering in her chest. For the love of Andraste, what possessed him to ask her that? To _say_ that? Now all she would think about is that he'd wanted to. She hadn't imagined it.

When she arrived at the gate, the vehicle was idling in preparation to leave. The cakes had long been loaded into the old SUV that they'd ride down to the camp in. Evelyn watched silently as Ariana clamored inside and buckled her seatbelt, waiting until she was settled to ask, "What was that about?"

"Oh, um, we were talking. Commander Cullen gave me a book." Ariana held up the book she'd been clutching to her chest.

Evelyn's white eyebrows shot sky high. "Cullen gave you a book? Why?"

Ariana shrugged, hoping she looked much more nonchalant then she felt at that moment. These new emotions that sprung up from knowing, truly knowing, that he wanted her too… she wasn't ready to share that. Not with anyone.

"Is it not customary to exchange gifts on Satinalia?" She asked, willing the butterflies inside of her to calm themselves.

"Did you give others gifts?"

"Of course I did."

"What book is it?"

Evelyn was attempting to read the title, so Ariana handed it over. "_Southern Farmer's Almanac_. For the garden."

Evelyn studied the cover before flipping it open. "What did you give him?"

"Socks."

Evelyn blinked at Ariana in surprise. "Socks?"

"Yes, why?"

Evelyn shook her head in laughter as she snapped the book shut and handed it back. "That's so… practical. Like that." She pointed to the book Ariana once again held against her chest. "Thank the Maker. I was worried that there may have been something more to it."

"More to it?"

Evelyn sighed. "Have you looked in a mirror? I expected there to be some level of… fascination, I guess, with you from some members of the Inquisition, but I hoped not from Cullen."

Ariana's heart plummeted. "Why would you say that?"

"He's better than that." Evelyn must have seen something in Ariana's eyes, because she quickly amended, "Not because of you, just… I worded that poorly, didn't I?"

Ariana pressed her lips together as she looked out the window. The statement had been harsh, uncharacteristically so for her sister.

“I only meant I'd wondered if he...” She sighed again. “Look, it's a relief that you haven't gotten involved with him. I need him focused. And besides, you are a noble. He’s the commander of my armies. What a scandal that would be.”

_Fuck_.

The happiness that filled Ariana that morning had entirely dissipated thanks to that conversation with her sister. She hadn't even considered that Cullen commanded not only the Inquisition's armies, but her sister's as well. Now anything between them could have a ripple effect on the entire Inquisition.

Ariana took a deep breath, pushing the emotions inside or her deeper and dropping her noble mask into place. Letting Evelyn see how much she’d been bothered by the conversation wouldn’t be productive for anyone.

"Ari, what's wrong?" Evelyn pressed her. "You haven't said a thing."

"Wrong? Nothing at all. That would be scandalous indeed." Ariana let out a tinkling laugh, the pinpricks of pain hitting her with each fake second that passed. She’d known that she couldn’t be involved with him, she’d tried to fight it, but she’d started to allow herself to hope… She never should have even entertained the thought.

"I’m glad you agree. Oh, that reminds me…" Evelyn pulled out her phone and scrolled through her email. "Josie received a call from Val Royeaux about a significant donation."

Ariana snapped her head around. "From Celene? Are you sure?"

"Yes. She heard a rumor that Gaspard would be offering to improve our communications infrastructure and, well, she thought she would make a better offer."

She was surprised by how rapidly Jean-Luc had put the gears in motion. It had been less than twenty-four hours since he'd said he'd take care of it and he had. Getting Celene to one up Gaspard was a risk, but he'd known exactly how to play his aunt and uncle against one another.

The knowledge that Jean-Luc could manipulate the empress of Orlais so masterfully unsettled her. The carefree young man she'd once fallen for no longer existed. She saw that clearly now. She only wished she'd realized it sooner.

"I can't believe he did that," she finally said.

"He? You mean the duke?" Evelyn was again closely watching Ariana. "He seems quite taken with you."

"He's not, but he's good at faking it. He wants something from us."

"Are you sure?"

"I think I know him better than you do."

Evelyn lifted her eyebrows at her, but didn't respond. Ariana turned back to the window, taking a moment to calm her roiling emotions.

"Where is his duchy?" Evelyn asked.

"Savrenne."

"Would you be happy there?" 

Maybe once she would have been. Maker knows her mother would have been so proud. But now… "I don't know," she truthfully responded, "Southwatch is my home."

"And Ostwick was mine."

"Ostwick?"

Evelyn shrugged. "Sometimes we don't have a choice."

"But…" Ariana trailed off. It was true, but why would her sister be saying that? 

Evelyn smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Something in her had changed. It was as though the gentle side of her sister was trying to come through, but it felt more forced than it had in the past.

She'd never shared with Ariana what had taken place that night she'd fled the safety of the chantry and brought down the mountain. Nor what happened in the following days as she chased the Inquisition through the mountains.

The reality was that Evelyn had barely spoken to her at all. Ariana didn't know how to be there for her, how to build a connection, when her sister intentionally remained so distant.

The vehicle pulled up to the camp. Fires had been lit, impromptu decorations hung, and a sense of festivity filled the air.

Ariana plastered an artificially happy smile on her face before exiting the vehicle to pass out cakes with her sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Salut_ \- (French) Hi  
_Bisous_ \- (French) Kisses


	14. Chapter 14

The stone wall was cool on his forehead. He stood with his fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose, a headache coming on thanks to the other two arguing across the war table. Thus far he’d managed to control the headaches and the mood swings, but these two had been going at it for hours arguing about Maker knows what.

He turned and opened his mouth to interrupt when the door flew open. The Inquisitor entered, her white hair stark against the dark green fatigues she’d taken to wearing about the keep. And she was followed closely by another woman.

“Knight-Commander!” The woman shouted at him from across the room, throwing her hand up to wave at him as though he were not already staring at her.

It had been almost two years since he’d last seen her and she looked… younger?

Unsurprising, considering the state of Kirkwall and the amount of stress she'd been under at the time. Her naturally blonde hair was pulled up part way, the soft waves framing her square face. Her tanned skin was marred only by the jagged red scar that ran horizontally across her face, below the bridge of her nose.

“Hawke. It’s only Commander now. How… unexpected to see you.”

He heard Josephine whispering to Leliana, “Hawke? _The_ Hawke?”

“Unexpected? Maferath’s hairy arse, Cullen! Your Seeker chased me all over Thedas and you’re surprised when I turn up?”

“Yes, well—” He didn’t have a chance to finish as the small woman barreled across the room and leapt onto him, wrapping her arms and legs around him tightly.

“I missed you too, Culls.”

Over Hawke’s shoulder, he could see the Inquisitor exchanging a glance with Leliana, while Josephine looked like she might pass out.

Hawke always had been a handful. The chaotic good that protected Kirkwall in the back streets and dark alleyways, but here amongst the trappings of the Inquisition she would be more like a bull in a china shop.

She dropped off him and stepped back to get a better look, her eyes widening in shock. “Maker, your hair! What have you done with the curls?”

At that, the other three women in the room burst into laughter. Cullen threw up his hands in frustration.

“Our commander has very nice hair, don’t you agree, Lady Hawke?”

Hawke rolled her eyes at Josephine. “Just Hawke.”

“Not Princess Marian then?” Cullen grabbed the opportunity to tease her back.

Hawke turned on him, jabbing her finger into his chest. “Call me that one more time, Templar, and we’ll take this outside.”

Cullen opened his mouth to say it again, but thought better of it. “Maybe later, Hawke. You must be here for a reason.”

He walked toward the war table and picked up one of the military figurines, rolling it between his fingers, as Hawke quipped, "Nope, I'm here for the frilly cakes!"

"That can be arranged." Josephine gave her an indulgent smile, before she asked, “Several months ago, Prince Vael said you were following a lead about the Grey Wardens?”

“Accurate.”

“Your sister is a Grey Warden, is she not?” Leliana inquired.

Hawke shook her head. “This has nothing to do with Bethany.”

“If not Bethany then—” Leliana started.

Cullen interrupted, “Anders _is_ dead... Right?”

The look Hawke gave him could only be described as scathing. Her tawny eyes darkened and her scar moved angrily as she wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I put a bullet in the back of his head myself and you know it.”

No one so much as let out a breath as she stared at him, daring him to question her.

“I know,” Cullen sighed as he finally broke the silence. “Then who is your lead?”

Hawke looked away, down at the war table to the northern reaches of the map to where a small Inquisition figure sat atop the city of Kirkwall. “Someone I met in Kirkwall.”

“Kirkwall?” Leliana eyed her thoughtfully.

“There were Wardens in Kirkwall?” Cullen reached his mind back to the almost ten years he’d spent in the city. Aside from Anders, who as far as Cullen knew had already abandoned the Wardens by the time he arrived, and later Bethany, he couldn’t remember ever having received information about Grey Wardens operating in the area. Wardens would often inform the Templars if they were in the area, sometimes requesting their assistance, but not once in the decade had he been made aware of Warden activity.

Either there had been none in the city or they hadn’t trusted the Templars. Both were a possibility.

“Hawke?” Cullen lifted his eyebrows.

“No." She shook her head at him and stubbornly crossed her arms. "Not until I’ve made contact. I’d rather not scare him away.”

“Him?” Leliana had same inscrutable look on her face. “I know that Warden—”

Hawke interrupted her. “Stop it, all of you. As soon as I have word you’ll be the first to know.”

With that line of business closed, the group adjourned for the rest of the day, spilling out into the great hall.

“Has anyone seen Varric?” The Inquisitor was looking at the currently empty chair where he was usually located. His laptop lay closed on the table in front of it.

“The Seeker chased him that way,” one of the Orlesians droned with a lazy gesture toward the entrance to the hall.

“Maker’s sweet redemption,” Trevelyan huffed, “Those two need to get over it.” She walked quickly toward the large doors, disappearing down the steps at a rapid clip.

Cullen turned toward Hawke, a mischievous smile on his face, “So back to our earlier discussion…”

“Don’t you _dare_ say it,” she threatened, poking her finger into his chest again.

“As you wish… Princess.”

***

A crowd had gathered in the courtyard, surrounding the new sparring ring outside the still under construction tavern. Ariana promised she’d meet Josephine and some of the Orlesian nobles for tea, but on seeing the crowd, Ariana’s curiosity got the best of her.

Although she was taller than many of the people there, she slid her way through toward the front, people making way for her as they realized who she was. Her breath hitched as she neared the railing and realized that Cullen was in the ring with remarkably few clothes on.

Instead of the full fatigues and chest armor she was used to seeing him in, he was wearing trousers and _only_ trousers, with nothing on top.

Maker preserve her.

He stood in a defensive pose, hands held loosely out in front of him as he circled around the perimeter. His disheveled golden hair slightly curled from the sweat pouring down his body, leaving clean track marks in the dirt that stuck to him. Her eyes followed the toned muscles of his upper arms and chest, down along the definition of his abdomen, cut muscles dipping further still below the band of the dark fabric of his trousers.

She snapped herself out it and looked around, realizing that the majority of the audience were women. Not that she blamed them, he was beautiful. It had rendered her near speechless when she’d first seen him, but his attractiveness had only grown when she’d realized he wasn’t the man she thought he was.

Since Satinalia, the dynamic had shifted. He’d admitted he would have kissed her. She told him she’d hoped he would… Then came the conversation with her sister.

She’d gone back to avoiding him. It was far easier at Skyhold than it had been at Haven. He deserved better than her cowardice, but she didn’t know what to say to him. Nothing could come of it. Not now. Not after what Evelyn had said.

But she wouldn't deny the fact he’d often starred in her fantasies and now, having seen the definition of his chest and the muscles of his arms, those fantasies would never be the same. His body was a work of art.

A small, blonde woman came flying across the ring at him in a swirl of fists and kicks that Cullen dodged and deflected.

When the woman finally stopped moving, Ariana strained to get a closer look at her. She was the same size as her sister, with natural blonde hair and a blood red tattoo of Kirkwall’s heraldry covering her upper left arm. She knew that tattoo. It belonged to Hawke. Champion and Viscountess of Kirkwall.

Of course it was.

The woman next to her was clapping enthusiastically at Cullen’s agile dodges.

“How long has this match been so far?” Ariana asked.

“Nigh on quarter hour.”

“Isn’t that… long?”

“Aye, triple most of ‘em.”

A cheer rose through the crowd as the woman swiped Cullen’s legs out from under him, pulling one up and locking him down against the ground.

She shouted as he attempted to free himself from her grasp, pressing her elbow harder into his side. “Had enough yet, Templar?”

“All right.” Cullen laid his head back against the ground and stopped struggling. “I yield.”

Hawke jumped up, put one foot on Cullen’s chest, and lifted her hands over her head victoriously and the crowd cheered in response. When she spun around for the crowd, Ariana’s eyes were drawn to the grisly red scar that marred her face.

After Hawke finished her posturing, she put a hand down to pull Cullen up from the ground. “Now you know what happens when you call me names.”

Cullen lifted his arms in a shrug, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Forgive me?”

“No worries, everything is dandy now! Let’s get a drink.” The woman sprung over the railing and jogged toward the still under construction tavern as several onlookers trailed after her to see what the woman was up to next. Varric’s book had given her an almost legendary status and people were curious about the reality of the Champion.

Cullen shook his head at Hawke’s back, the smile finally spreading across his face. Ariana liked the way the edges of his eyes crinkled and the way his scar quirked up when he smiled.

Ariana dropped her eyes to glance over his chest, still heaving after the fight. When she lifted them back to his face, she found him watching her. The smirk on his face told her he knew exactly where she’d been looking.

The rest of Skyhold melted away as they stood there, staring at each other.

Cassandra’s voice broke through their quiet cocoon and the sounds of Skyhold rushed back over her. “Commander! I would speak with you at once.”

Ariana flushed as Cullen lifted his eyebrows at her in a teasing question, before he snagged his shirt and coat from the railing. Damn it, all it took was one look for him to make her completely forget herself. Ariana beat a hasty retreat back toward the keep.

Knowing that Hawke was at Skyhold made tea even more boring than she’d thought possible. The Orlesian nobles droned on about the latest fashions at court. After three weeks in the Frostbacks and the massive undertaking repairing the dilapidated fortress, Ariana truly couldn’t care less about a topic. They could have spoken about almost anything else that would have made the two hours interesting, but it was not meant to be.

As soon as she possibly could without being rude, Ariana escaped the ambassador’s office and headed to the still unfinished tavern. Workers were hammering on the upper floors, yelling back and forth as they pushed to finish the building before the heavy snows of winter covered the Frostbacks until spring.

The door swung smoothly on it’s freshly oiled hinges. There wasn’t much to the tavern yet, merely a counter across the back with a few stools. The rest of the tavern was a mess of partially assembled furniture and construction supplies.

She saw the blonde head she was looking for bent over an oversized mug, a small crowd surrounding her. Ariana began picking her way through the wreckage of the tavern.

“Princess!” Varric shouted from the bar.

Hawke punched his arm. “Not you too!”

“Ow, not you, Hawke.” At his tone, Hawke turned toward Ariana, her face lighting up at seeing Ariana standing there.

“Sister!” Within seconds, the small woman tackled Ariana into an upended table, her arms tightly wrapping around her.

“You nobles are weird,” Varric grumbled, rubbing his arm where Hawke had landed her fist. Ariana noticed a bruise developing under one of Varric’s eyes, but Hawke interrupted her thoughts before she could ask about it.

“I never thought I’d find you south of the Marches.” Hawke pulled back to take a look at her. “You look… pale? What are you doing in Ferelden?”

“Orlais,” Ariana corrected, as if that somehow made a difference.

Hawke wrinkled her nose as she rolled her eyes, giving her scar an angry look, “Ooh, all the better to work on my accent!”

Ariana couldn’t help but laugh. Hawke was so irreverent about _everything_.

So much so that it surprised her when Sebastian confessed he’d fallen in love with the woman. Hawke had been little more than a vigilante on the back streets of Kirkwall when Sebastian met her, but she’d grown into a well-respected member of the city-state as the years passed.

Ariana could still remember that day at Southwatch, Sebastian pacing in the parlor as he laid out his feelings. “She mocks the Chantry…”

“That’s not so—”

“_And_ the vows I’ve made to the Maker.” He circled in front of the stiff backed couch Ariana was perched on. “She supports—_supports!_—the rebel mages, stealing her sister away to the Grey Wardens instead of into the care of the Templars—”

“That was the right choice, Seb,” Ariana interrupted. “The Gallows should be shuttered. And the Templars—”

“That woman infuriates me.” He crumpled his hand into a fist, slamming it into his other hand. “But despite all that, she has shown me the path the Maker has laid out for me. To take back Starkhaven as the rightful heir.”

“And what does Hawke have to say about that?”

Sebastian shook his head sadly. “I am not able to give her what she would want of me right now. I will offer her no less than a prince.”

“Have you told her how you feel?”

He stopped pacing and shook his head, lifting his palms toward the ceiling as he shrugged. “I have not.”

“_Bràthair_, you know the situation in Kirkwall is untenable.” Ariana stood and took one of Sebastian’s hand in her own. “You should tell her. Before…” She trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence at the time.

Even now, more than a decade later, the pain still lingered when she thought about what they both had lost that winter day.

Hawke was chattering away as she dragged Ariana over to the counter and sat her down on a stool, pushing an almost empty mug toward her. “Don’t tell anyone, but I brought the good stuff.”

“You didn’t!” Ariana sniffed the liquid at the bottom of the mug, the scent of citrus blossoms and fresh water tickling her nose. “Bless you!”

She took another deep breath of the Starkhaven vintage, trying to remember the warmth of the sun on her face, the breeze that gently blew through the fields of grass, and the long days that never ended. She felt as though she’d been in the south for an eon, although in reality, it hadn’t even been half a year.

The two women chatted about Starkhaven before Hawke leaned toward her and lowered her voice. “Any chance you’ve heard from our Fereldan friend?”

Ariana coughed, choking on the sip of whiskey she’d taken. “No, not since— Well, no.”

Hawke let out a sigh. “Too bad. Something weird is happening with the Grey Wardens.”

“Is Bethany…?”

“Fine, I think. Merrill took her to the Anderfels, though I haven’t heard from her in awhile.”

Ariana reached out to squeeze Hawke’s hand. At that moment, Varric popped in between them and turned Hawke around, pushing her off her stool, “Have you met The Iron Bull?”

Bull stopped moving and grunted in appreciation as he let his eye roam over Hawke. “Nice scar.”

Hawke eyeballed him in response. “Nice horns.”

Bull laughed and yelled to Cabot for a round of drinks. Small glasses of a foul smelling liquid were passed around and Bull held his up as he gave a short toast.

Ariana bent over and whispered, “Varric, what is this?”

“Just drink it! It can’t be that bad.”

“I don’t know about that…”

“Come on, live a little.”

Ariana watched Hawke down the liquid in one fluid movement without so much as a cough leaving her lips, despite the slight downturn they took as she swallowed.

Bull slapped her on the back, clearly pleased with her response. “That’ll put some chest on your chest!”

Turning to Ariana, he made a motion for her to take a drink. “Your turn, Princess, on the count of three…”

Ariana tossed her hair over her shoulder and lifted the drink to her lips, dumping it down her throat before she could second guess herself. The liquid felt like fire as it tore down her throat into her belly. She fought the urge to retch and instead coughed violently, wanting to get the foul liquid out yet fearful that it might be worse coming back up.

Bull threw his head back and laughed heartily at her reaction, signaling to the barkeep for another round.

When Cabot laid the glasses out on the bar, Hawke cheerfully picked another one up. “What do you call this stuff?”

“Maraas-Lok!”

“Huh. Never heard of it.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” Varric piped up from where he had his head down on the bar, looking nauseous. Bull held out a second to glass to Ariana.

“Oh no, no no no.” She waved her hands in front of her and moved to push the glass away.

Hawke reached across and plucked the glass out of Bull’s hand. “One more for me then! We’re keeping score, right?”

Ariana had no idea how the woman managed it. Despite her small stature, Hawke truly was larger than life. The hooting and hollering in the room grew louder as Hawke downed the two shots, one after another.

They were in for a long night.

***

Cullen was about ready to call it a night, his eyes tired from the evening of reading reports and head pounding from the lack of lyrium, when a light knock sounded on the door to his office.

"Enter!" He called as he reached behind to switch off one of the lamps.

Rylen pushed open the door. "Came to see if you wanted to grab a drink, ser. Bar's open even though the tavern's not done yet."

Cullen sighed. "I'm not sure—"

"You’ve hardly left this office since we got here."

“I don’t have time.”

“I say this as a friend...” Rylen hesitated. “You need a break. You haven’t taken one in weeks”

"All right, only one drink though." Cullen rose, looking around at the paper scattered across his desk, the dim glow of the computer screen lighting them in the darkness. As much as it pained him to admit, the reports could wait, they'd still be there in the morning. And he wouldn’t be making a dent in the ever growing to do list right now, not when he couldn’t focus.

He reached into his desk drawer, grabbing one of the herbal chews he’d stashed there before following Rylen out and down the stairs towards the main entrance of the tavern. He pulled the chew out of his pocket and opened it, popping it into his mouth. The relief was immediate, the pounding in his head lessening to the dull throbbing that he’d learned to live with.

The snow fell lightly, large flakes dancing and twirling around the fortress. It had been less than a week since he'd sparred with Hawke in the courtyard. At some point since then, the temperature plummeted and it began to snow once more.

Despite the gentleness of the snow, it was biting cold, even though it was only Firstfall. Haring would be brutal at this rate. He was chilled through by the time they reached the door. Relief flooded through him at the warmth inside.

His eyes were immediately drawn to Ariana and his heart flipped at seeing her. They’d scarcely seen each other in the preceding weeks. Since Satinalia. Since she’d told him she hoped he would kiss her.

Now that he knew that, it had only made everything _more_ awkward… And he’d been avoiding her because of it. The questions and self-doubt jockeyed around inside of him every time he thought about it. Should he ask her out on a date? Should he take her out on the ramparts and kiss her?

It wasn’t that he was inexperienced when it came to women. He wasn’t. But he’d never been in a situation like this before. What does one _do_ when they were courting a woman? Who could he even ask about that? And to complicate everything, she was still a noble and he still was not.

"Culls, you made it!" Hawke shouted from where she sat on a table next to Ariana, a bottle of whiskey between them. Sera was lying under the table blowing bubbles, giggling as they floated up and were popped by Varric and Bull, sitting in chairs next to the table.

Hawke slipped off the table, taking several wobbling steps toward him. "Finally! Why haven't you come drinking with me yet, hmm?"

Rylen gave Cullen a pat on the back as he started toward the table where Ariana was now holding up the bottle of whiskey.

Cullen kept an eye on the knight-captain as he approached Ariana. There was a familiarity between the two Marchers that he envied. The smirk on Ariana's mouth, her infinitely kissable mouth, as she waited made something clench inside him. 

"I've never been able to keep up with you, Hawke," he told her as Rylen reached the table and took the bottle from Ariana.

"But Cullennn," she whined. "I've been here a week and I've hardly seen you at all."

He ran a hand through his hair, watching as Rylen held the bottle up for Cullen to see. Rylen tilted his head towards the bar. "I'm sorry, there's… a lot going on right now."

"Some excuse." Hawke rolled her eyes. "There was a lot going on in Kirkwall."

"True,” he sighed.

"Whatever, let's drink." Hawke grabbed his arm and dragged him after Rylen. She pushed him at one of the stools next to the bar and pressing up onto her toes, reached over the bar for several glasses.

Rylen looked over Hawke’s back at Cullen and shrugged. Hawke popped back up with three glasses and, snatching the bottle of whiskey from Rylen, poured them all several fingers.

“To ours!” She held up the glass and downed her entire drink in one go. Rylen followed suit but Cullen took a careful sip. The last thing he needed tonight was to get blazing drunk.

He felt someone brush up against him and his heart skipped a beat at the scent of Ariana. When he turned, he found her sliding onto the stool next to him. The dress she was wearing left her neck and shoulders entirely bare. As his gaze lingered, all he could think about was how soft her skin would feel under his lips.

He snapped his eyes back up to her face. Maker’s breath, he had to focus. He couldn’t be thinking about that when he didn’t even… hadn’t even made _any_ move.

“Hello, Commander,” she purred as she stole his glass of whiskey and took a sip. Cullen watched her throat as she swallowed, watched the way her tongue darted out to lick a rogue drop off her lower lip, and the way she captured her lip in between her teeth... all as she held his gaze.

Bloody void, she was trying to kill him. He cleared his throat, “Good evening, Bann.”

“What brings you here tonight?”

“Rylen…” He cleared his throat again as she slid to the edge of her stool and moved it closer toward him. Her knee brushed against his leg. “Um, insisted I get a drink.”

Disappointment flashed in her eyes.

“Finish your drink, Culls!” Hawke shoved at his shoulder. “We need another one.”

“Hawke—”

A phone started ringing. Hawke whipped hers out and thoughtfully looked at it. “Excuse me,” she said, as she swiped her finger across it and brought it to her ear, walking several feet toward the corner.

Cullen pushed his glass away and looked at Rylen. “Thank you for the invitation, but I need to be going.”

“As you will. But at least get some sleep.” Rylen gave him a tight smile.

“Hey Krem, check this out!” At Bull’s shout, both men turned to see Sera climbing onto Bull’s shoulders.

Cullen didn’t see what happened next as Ariana’s voice pulled him in. “You’re leaving already?”

He stiffened as he felt a hand brush along his thigh. Horrific memories flashed through his mind, too fast to stop. He instinctively gripped her wrist. “Don’t touch me.”

Ariana pulled her hand from his grasp and stood. Her brow furrowed as she deeply swallowed. “I see. Well, good night then.”

Damn it.

Cullen sighed as he watched her make for the door on unsteady feet. She didn’t know that he didn’t like to be surprised like that. That he didn’t like to be touched without knowing it was coming… _especially_ like that.

“Bann, wait,” he called after her, but to no avail. She pulled open the door and headed into the night. She hadn’t even put on a coat. Cullen doubted she’d last long outdoors with her short dress and bare shoulders.

He chased after her, following her into the darkness. It had begun to snow more heavily since he’d entered the tavern, the large flakes swirling around in the wind.

She was unsteadily walking toward the stairs at the front of the keep and it only took several long strides for him to catch up with her. Her arms were wrapped around her midsection and her hair was wildly blowing around her.

“You must be freezing.” He slipped his coat off. She shuddered as his coat touched her bare shoulders. She tried to shake it off, but he held it fast around her as he turned her to face him. “What were you thinking coming out here without your coat?”

She tried to wriggle away again and Cullen stepped forward, pulling her toward him. “Ariana, stop fighting me."

She froze, her now-wide eyes darting up to his and her mouth slightly opening in surprise.

“There, that’s better.” He smiled, but she continued to stare at him in shock. “What is it?”

“You’ve never said my name before,” she murmured.

Maker take him. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “I shouldn’t have. Forgive me for the presumption.”

“No, that wasn’t… That wasn’t it at all. I— I liked it...” She took a step closer toward him and he felt the warmth of her despite the coldness of the night. The snow swirled around them as she gazed at him. “I want you to kiss me.”

He swallowed, conscious of the fact they were standing in the middle of the courtyard. At night, true, but still visible to anyone who might be watching. “Right now?”

Ariana frowned at him and took a step back. “Do you not?”

“That’s not—”

He was not able to finish the thought as she interrupted, “I'm so— Argh! You flirt with me, you tell me you almost kissed me, and then…” She wobbled as she threw her arms out wide. “And then nothing! You don't!”

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, the emotion shoving around inside of him. She was frustrated and she had every right to be. It had been weeks since she’d told him she wanted him to kiss and he’d done nothing. He didn’t know _what_ to do. He’d never felt like this, never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her, and now… now he was messing everything up.

But she was still a noble and still the Inquisitor’s sister. He couldn’t take her to bed and hope for the best. Not when he wanted, hoped, and prayed for so much more.

She took another step back from him and the disappointed look in her eyes shifted to unhappiness. “What is so wrong with me?”

“What?” He stepped toward her, but she stepped back again. “It’s _not_—”

“Don’t. Don’t say it’s not me,” she told him as she continued to take uneven steps away from him. “I think it is.”

Maker, she was infuriating. He wanted to shake her. Or better yet, shove her against the wall and kiss her until she was begging for him to take her. He looked up at the sky in frustration, the large flakes landing on his upturned face.

“All right! You know what? It is you!” He raised his voice as he advanced on her. The insistent throbbing of his returning headache started up behind his eyes. He wouldn’t have much longer before the pain came back in full force. He didn’t want her to see that. “Do you know who you are?”

She reversed course, taking several steps back toward him as she snarked, “Why don't you tell me since I clearly have no idea.”

He stopped with less than half a foot between them. He could see the way her grey eyes flashed in annoyance despite the darkness. “You are intelligent, gorgeous, a powerful bann—”

“I am more than my title!” He winced at the heightened level of Ariana’s voice and closed his eyes, feeling his headache strengthening. He regretting not bringing extra chews. Or medication. Or anything. He regretted leaving his office.

“You are the Inquisitor’s sister!”

“I am my own woman!”

“I know… I know.” He opened his eyes, trying to focus on her, and held his hands up helplessly in front of him. “Forgive me. I can’t do this right now.”

Whatever she had been about to say, Ariana snapped her mouth shut. Cullen pressed his lips together, trying not to grimace at the pain that had now moved to the back of his neck as she stared at him.

She shook her head before she fled up the stairs toward the keep.

***

Cullen rubbed his hands up and down the sides of his arms quickly as he traversed the stone bridge from his office to the main keep. The snowfall of the previous night hadn’t been so bad, but without a coat this morning was… painful. He’d worn the one extra sweater he’d found buried at the bottom of his pack under his fatigues, out of sight because of the unsightly holes that had developed over the months. He didn’t even remember owning the sweater, so who knows how long it had been buried in there.

It wasn’t only the cold that hurt this morning, but his conversation with Ariana. He knew what he wanted—_her_—but he didn’t know how that could be possible. He should never have told her he wanted to kiss her. He should have kept his distance. But that small hope that planted itself in his heart continued to whisper that he could be more than he thought possible. That he could be worthy. Couldn’t he?

If she ever spoke to him again, since now he’d gone and made an even bigger mess. Maybe it was time to let this go, to let _her_ go once and for all.

Varric leaned against the wall near the door as Cullen entered the main hall, scaffolding lining the outer edges of the room as hammers clanged and workmen shouted back and forth at one another.

“Ow…” Varric groaned, his hands on either side of his head.

“Are you all right?” Cullen had never seen Varric look this miserable.

“Yeah, I’ll survive,” Varric replied with a weak attempt to wave off Cullen’s concern. “I’d forgotten how bad of an influence Chuckles can be.”

“Chuckles?” Cullen was thoroughly confused about how Solas had been a bad influence. There were rumors of his skill in Diamondback, but he was certain Varric wasn’t talking about a card game. Besides, he’d barely seen the elven man since they’d arrived in Skyhold, even though he walked through the man’s adopted office daily.

“That would be me.” Hawke appeared next to Cullen holding a small bottle and a wet cloth. She placed the bottle into Varric’s hand before gently laying the cloth over his head. “Bull says it tastes terrible, but to drink this.”

Varric made a gagging noise. “I think I’ll pass on anything Tiny offers. But thanks.”

She shrugged and slipped the bottle into her pocket. Turning toward Cullen, she gave him a funny look. “You look cold.”

Cullen returned the look. “You look hungover.”

“Potato potato,” Hawke replied, her shoulders lifting in a lazy shrug.

“I think the phrase is poh-_tay_-to poh-_tah_-to,” Varric grumbled.

As Cullen opened the door to Josephine’s office, he heard Hawke say behind him, “Nah. Potato potato.”

The ambassador wasn’t in her office as Cullen breezed through, the warmth from her fireplace enticing. The next hallway would be particularly cold right now, given the fresh batch of snow and that collapsed stretch of wall.

By the time he entered the war room, he was shivering. This war room wasn’t much better as they still hadn’t hooked up the electric. Given their location, it might behoove them to install solar or wind generators, something Cullen would add to his ever growing to-do list.

Leliana leaned against the wall listening to Trevelyan and Josephine discuss the masquerade ball at Halamshiral. It was still almost half a year away, due to take place at the end of Drakonis, but Josephine insisted that preparations must begin immediately to allow them enough time.

Cullen felt Leliana’s calculating gaze on him as he rounded the table, hands still rubbing his upper arms, and took his place across from Trevelyan. She sauntered over, tilting her head a touch as she asked, “Where’s your coat?”

He shrugged. Leliana lifted an eyebrow.

The Inquisitor gave him a long, appraising look before she turned to address Leliana. “Have we received word from our scouts in the Plains?”

“Harding has a camp a few hundred feet south of the most intense fighting.”

“Very good. I’ll depart tomorrow.” Trevelyan focused her green eyes on him. “Any recommendations for who should join me on the mission? Solas will, but anyone else you’d recommend?”

Cullen thought about the reality of the situation. An active war zone would be slightly more challenging than the locations she’d run her operations before. “I’d bring Cassandra and maybe the boy. His… skills might be useful,” he added quickly as her eyebrows shot toward the ceiling.

Logistics would prove challenging as most of their transport options were buried along with the village of Haven, but several of the new vehicles he’d ordered arrived over the weekend. They’d gotten a single armored vehicle. It would have to do.

With the logistics decided, Trevelyan excused herself from the remainder of the meeting.

Leliana filled him in on concerning reports coming in from two other locations, the Emerald Graves and Emprise du Lion.

Cullen had seen Samson, a former colleague from Kirkwall, at Corypheus’s side as they attacked Haven. There had been something unnatural about the man. After they’d arrived in Skyhold, he’d asked Leliana to check into Samson and into what remained of the Templar Order.

With their business concluded, Cullen strode purposefully away from the war room, desperate to get anywhere with some warmth. As he entered the lowest level of the rotunda, he caught sight of Trevelyan sitting on Solas’s desk, bent over a large sheet of paper. Solas was drawing something—a map perhaps?—and as Cullen entered the room, Trevelyan leapt up off the desk, looking guilty.

Cullen nodded at the pair and continued on through toward the exit. He resolved to speak with Cassandra as soon as he could to ask her to keep an eye on the two mages while they were in the Exalted Plains. They were up to something.

When Cullen opened the door to his office, Hawke was sitting on his desk, one leg crossed over the other, inspecting her nails.

He sighed, not having the energy required to keep up with her right now. She’d often been described as a force of nature, but he thought of her more like a machine. One without an off switch. While mere mortals ran out of energy, Hawke could keep going full speed ahead without so much as slowing down. It’s what made her the best person for the job of Viscountess of Kirkwall when the city was in its greatest need.

Between the two of them, they’d managed to pull the city back from the brink of a Templar-made disaster and protect it during the ensuing mage rebellion. In those days after the explosion—_the first explosion_, he corrected—she had become his best friend and confidant.

She also reminded him a bit of Rosalie. The youngest Rutherford had barely entered her teenage years when he joined the Templars. He’d had limited interaction with his family since that fateful day he joined up, although not for lack of trying. On Mia’s part at least.

He’d visited them once, when he was posted to Kirkwall, and the visit hadn’t gone as well as he would have hoped. Since the start of the Mage-Templar War, he'd barely spoken with them at all.

“Hawke.” The word was clipped and he struggled to keep the annoyance from his voice.

She ignored it. “I’ve gotta admit, Culls,” she said, resting her chin on the hand she’d been inspecting. She batted her eyelashes at him. “I wasn’t sure you had it in you.”

“What is it? I don’t have time for this.”

She glanced down at the desk next to her and back up at him with a smirk. She picked up a folded piece of paper, flicking her wrist to hold it upright in front of her face. He realized that the bundle on the desk next to her was his coat, neatly folded. “Shall I read it to you?”

He snatched the note out of her hand. “Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not it.”

“Right. And I’m the Viscountess of Kirkwall. Oh wait…”

Cullen rolled his eyes as he looked down at the piece of paper, “Commander” handwritten on the front. His eyes traced along the lines of her writing, taking in the way the letters slanted to the right, the strong, clean strokes of the pen giving the letters an almost masculine feel. When he flipped open the paper, a tingle ran up his spine as he read the short missive:

> _Thank you_.

He flipped the paper over to look at the back, but it was blank.

“I already checked,” Hawke pouted, “Not even an invisible ink heart.”

Cullen didn’t know whether to feel relieved that she’d written something at all or disappointed she hadn’t written more.

He let out a sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and slipped the paper into his chest pocket before sliding the coat on. Warmth. Blessed warmth. He caught a faint floral scent that reminded him of summer in Kirkwall and flowers in bloom.

“I hope she was worth you freezing your ass off all morning.”

“How do you know it’s a she?”

Hawke rolled her eyes so hard she rolled her entire head. “Smells like one.”

“You smelled my coat?”

“What of it?”

“That’s… not normal.”

“Stop making me sound like a creeper.”

“You _are_ a creeper.”

She inspected his face, Cullen taking the temporary reprieve to mentally prepare himself for the jab she was sure to throw back at him, but she surprised him. “The Inquisition has been good for you. You look happy.”

He gave her a small smile. “So do you.”

“Bloody ashes, don’t get sappy on me. I came to say goodbye.”

“Already? You’ve only been here a week.”

She jumped down off the desk. “I received a lead that I need to follow immediately. They’ve been few and far between, but if my information is correct, I should have more to share soon.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she tucked her head under his chin. “Travel well.”

“I shall do my best.” Hawke pulled back and gave him a mischievous wink. “And you close the deal with this one.”

“Hawke,” he warned.

“What? You like her. And it’s about time something good happens.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Bràthair_ \- (Gàidhlig) Brother


	15. Chapter 15

Skyhold had been transformed since their arrival. The medieval fortress modernized by the installation of electricity, running water, and communications lines, in addition to reworking the space to make it better equipped for modern use.

What had once been stables was changed into a garage and vehicle repair shop, mechanics working all hours to keep the Inquisition’s fleet in top shape. And although expensive, individual bathing rooms and toilets had been installed across the sleeping quarters as an addition to the larger shared restrooms in more public areas.

Ariana was grateful that a small garden area off the main hall would be preserved. Her sister promised Ariana garden space once winter gave way to spring.

Abandoned towers were transformed into useable space. The commander had claimed one of the larger ones for his office and sleeping quarters, but others housed the mages and their supplies, a break room for the soldiers, a helicopter landing pad, and the one tower in front of her had been claimed by someone as a bedroom.

It wasn’t much yet, only a mattress in the corner and a painting propped against the wall, but the battle axe leaning next to the painting made her smile. This room at the top of the tavern screamed that it had been created for The Iron Bull.

As though her thoughts summoned him, he burst through one of the doors and pulled up short, a smirk on his face, “I knew this room would be perfect to attract the ladies. Hey Bann, look at this sweet bed I found.”

He stepped aside to open the door wide as several of his Chargers carried in a massive headboard.

“You should be helping, Bull!” Krem called from under one of the giant pieces of wood.

“That’s what I got you boys for!” Bull jovially replied as he directed them in where to set it down. “There! Now isn’t this a bed fit for a king?”

“Complete with notches in the headboard,” Krem continued.

Ariana laughed at the exchange between the two men.

“Say, would you like to join us for a drink tonight to celebrate my new bed?” Bull asked her, playfully wiggling his eyebrows at her.

She rolled her eyes. “It would be my honor, Bull.”

“See ya tonight.”

Evening plans arranged, Ariana headed for Josephine’s office. The ambassador requested her assistance in decorating the castle, as well as some of the party planning details. These areas didn’t excite Ariana as much as her work in Haven had, but it was important to Josephine and there was little else Ariana found that she could do for the moment.

She worked with Josephine the remainder of the afternoon and through dinner on details for the tavern grand opening party, tentatively scheduled for the following month, in addition to working her contacts in Orlais to try and find an in to the ball at Halamshiral.

Ariana was avoiding the phone call to Jean-Luc. Of course he'd be attending, but he'd insist she be at his side. After their exchange at Satinalia, she was more determined than ever to find a way around him, but it was too late. He’d made it clear to the rest of the Orlesian aristocracy that she was off-limits.

Unsurprisingly, she wasn't able to find another invitation to the ball. However, she did at least manage to procure a dance instructor for her sister, so it wasn’t a total failure.

“Oh my, look at the time!” Josephine exclaimed as she checked the time on her phone. "We should get to the tavern."

As the two women headed for the door, a loud knock sounded. One of Leliana’s agents requested Ariana follow him. Ariana promised Josephine she'd join her and the others as soon as possible before she followed the scout.

He led her up the stairs to the Rookery where the spymaster was hunched over her desk, adding notes to a printed document in front of her.

Leliana looked up as Ariana approached. “Oh good, you’re here.”

She scratched out a signature and slid the document into a manila envelope with red block letters stamped across the front. She ran a damp sponge along the flap and pressed it closed. “We need to approach Teagan for assistance. After what happened with the mages, he will not be pleased with our request.”

Ariana couldn’t understand why. “He seemed open to an alliance with the Inquisition during the negotiations and he was rather helpful in assisting the refugees back to their homes.”

“He was, wasn’t he? Which is exactly why I want you to go to Redcliffe. My people tell me he was quite taken with you and has made quiet inquiries since you met.”

Ariana lifted her eyebrows. “Inquiries? Like what?”

“Your marital status, lineage, all those things nobles care about.” Leliana nonchalantly waved her hand as she unlocked her phone and began scrolling through emails. “Ah, here we are. One of his men has been asking around Ostwick about any rumors.”

Ariana thought of her mother. First an Orlesian duke and now a Fereldan arl. The woman would have been so proud. Unless... “Isn’t he married?”

“No, his late wife passed some time ago, he’s already out of mourning. He has no heir, so it’s expected for him to seek another wife.”

“And you think that woman could be me?”

“Oh, yes. In fact, you are exactly who the arl is seeking. Rumor has it he prefers the Free Marches to Ferelden, but irrespective of that, you are titled, attractive, independently wealthy, and presumably have many child bearing years ahead of you.”

Ariana shuddered at Leliana’s words, the images of a brood of spoiled children flashing through her head.

“Although…” Leliana continued, “Having a mage in your lineage will work against you.”

“Thank the Maker for that at least.” Not that He’s good for much else.

Leliana lifted an eyebrow at her. “We can use his interest in you to our advantage. We need his assistance.”

“Shall I marry him then?” Ariana couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice. She’d offered her assistance to the Inquisition, but tying herself to a man double her age was not what she envisioned.

“If that’s what it takes,” Leliana responded, ignoring Ariana’s outburst. “But I don’t believe that will be necessary.”

“And if he asks?”

“He shouldn’t. He hasn’t asked Anora for her approval yet, so you have time.”

“I wonder how Jean-Luc will feel about that.”

Leliana’s gaze was piercing. “Is it Bechalet that you’re worried about?”

“Of course,” she sighed, “He’s already become a problem in Orlais. I’d imagine he won’t take well to Fereldan competition.”

Leliana arched an eyebrow. “I hardly think _that_ Fereldan will be of concern. Oh, before you leave, where are you heading next?”

“To the tavern. I promised a celebratory drink and didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”

Leliana held out the classified envelope in her hand to Ariana. “Could you take this to the commander on your way? I’ve several more to get out tonight and, as you can see, there are no scouts to be found.” She waved her hand around the room to make her point.

“Commander Cullen? At this hour?”

“He’ll be awake. And it's urgent.”

Ariana took the envelope with a tight smile, thinking about the last time she’d seen the commander. “Sure.”

“Thank you so much.” Leliana gave her a smile that felt too large for the current circumstances. “Do enjoy yourself tonight.”

When Ariana reached the bottom of the stairs, she cut across the rotunda and pulled her coat tighter around her, the winter winds whipping as she pushed open the door.

She thought about the last time she’d seen Cullen. She’d been drinking, closer to drunk than sober. All she wanted was to grab his face and pull him in, but she’d prompted him to kiss her instead. And for some reason, he’d refused.

Ariana cringed at the memory of her freaking out at him about it. Even after he’d admitted he’d almost kissed and wanted to kiss her didn’t mean he owed it to her. No matter how much she wanted it in return.

She’d also thought more about that Satinalia day conversation with her sister. Cullen wasn’t a noble, but that didn’t preclude… seeing how things went. Her sister never need know.

Besides, surely it would fizzle. There was no way in Thedas that the intensity of what she felt could burn this bright much longer. It had already been months. But that man… Maker, he made her feel things she hadn’t ever felt before.

She took slow, deep breaths as she crossed the stone bridge, giving the door to his office a sharp knock before pushing it open.

Ariana froze as she caught sight of him hunched over his desk, framed by the light of two lamps behind him, intently staring at his screen. His hair was tousled and slightly unkempt, one hand running through it as he reviewed whatever was on the screen, his face lit by its brightness in the dark room.

Ariana watched him, stomach fluttering at the way he looked this night. Younger and less world-weary, although... It was nearing midnight and he was still working. Her eyes lingered on him sitting there, wearing a simple white shirt instead of his usual fatigues.

She cleared her throat as she stepped into the room, pushing the door closed behind her. “Good night, Commander.”

His eyes shot up to meet hers with surprise. “Ari— ah, Bann Trevelyan?” The low timbre of his voice, husky from lack of use, fanned the slow burn of desire that had fired up deep inside of her.

“Leliana asked me to bring you this.”

“Why would she...” He trailed off as he watched her approach, his golden eyes intense as they tracked her movement.

She couldn't speak as reached his desk and held the envelope out to him. She hoped he couldn’t tell that her heart was about to beat out of her chest.

His eyes held hers as he reached out and took hold of it. His eyes were dark, that molten amber color she’d spent so much time fantasizing about. Her breath caught in her chest as she held his gaze.

As soon as Cullen had a firm grasp on the envelope, she nodded her head and turned to leave, feet rapidly moving toward the exit. She could barely breathe. If she stayed in his presence any longer, she couldn’t be held liable for what happened next.

She’d reached the door when he said, “Wait.”

Ariana knew she should pull the door open and walk outside. She should not let her hand linger on the door handle, nor should she turn around. But her traitorous body didn’t listen.

She turned.

He was out of his chair, taking measured steps toward her, and she simply... waited as he moved closer and closer until he stood right in front of her. He was so close, she could reach out and—

No. _No_. She absolutely should _not_ touch him.

Her heart was pounding, each breath deep and measured, as she willed her body to calm itself. He was so close to her, his eyes seeking something in her own. Neither of them spoke as they stood there, staring into each other’s eyes, suspended in the moment for several wild beats of her heart.

His hand reached up toward the back of his neck. “Forgive me,” he mumbled as he began to turn away.

Consequences be damned. “Cullen.”

Now it was his turn to freeze. He waited several seconds that felt like an eternity before turning to face her.

Ariana lifted her hand to his cheek, grazing her thumb over his lower lip. His lips parted and amber gold eyes widened a fraction before fluttering closed.

In the next instant, Cullen’s mouth was pressed against hers, their arms wrapped around each other as he pressed her back against the door.

For all his intensity, his mouth was so much softer and so much warmer than she’d ever thought possible. The tip of his tongue traced the outline of her lips as he kissed her, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth to deepen the kiss.

The cold wood of the door pressed into her back, trapping her between the door and his body. Maker, she loved the way he felt pressed up against her. His fingers rested on her hips, his touch unexpectedly light, but tightening as he slid his thigh between her legs and felt her arch into him. The pressure of his leg only fanned the flames that had been building inside of her. For how long, she didn’t know, but she felt alight with desire.

When he finally pulled away to breathe, she clung to his shoulders, her legs too weak to stand on her own. “Maker’s breath,” he gasped as he struggled to breathe, his eyes darkened with desire as he looked at her.

Her fingers reached up and explored his jawline, running along the stubble there, the short hairs tickling her fingertips. She watched the way his lips parted as she ran her hands down his neck, toward the collar of his shirt.

With each touch, Cullen took deep breaths, dragging the air into his lungs before softly blowing it back out, as though he were fighting for self control.

Adrenaline shot through her at the realization that he was coming undone. For her.

“Cullen…” She whispered his name again as she slid her hands up along his chest and around the back of his neck, tightening at the nape of his neck.

His hands caressed her body, tracing along her curves, feeling every inch of her. His hands brushed along her sides toward her chest, his thumbs running across her breasts eliciting a low moan from deep within her.

***

Her moan snapped him back to reality.

Maker’s breath, this was not supposed to happen like this. As much as he wanted to have her moaning his name, it wasn’t supposed to be up against his office door, it wasn’t supposed to be so… so…

He lost all thought as she arched her hips into him. She had starred in his fantasies since the day he’d met her and he was quickly losing the battle with his self-control. Especially when she was doing what she was doing with her hands, and hips, and—

“Ariana?” He asked. His voice was urgent, willing her to look at him.

She ran her hands up down across his chest and then back up, tangling her fingers in his hair. She ran her tongue across her lower lip. “Mmm?”

“Do... do you want this?”

Another moan escaped her lips as she dropped her head back against the door, bucking her hips against his growing erection. He grabbed her hips in a feeble attempt to still her, gritting out, “Answer me.”

She lifted her head from the door and met his eyes. She leaned forward, moving to press her mouth to sensitive skin behind his ear. Her voice came out ragged with need. “Maker, yes.”

A small roar escaped from his lips as he pressed her more firmly against the door, his hands pulling at the hem of her short dress to lift it around her waist. He continued to press kisses along her neck as his hands raked over the curves of her ass before trailing back up along her sides toward her breasts. She shuddered in anticipation at his explorations, her own hands mimicking his as far as she could reach.

He licked her earlobe, pausing to play with the sensitive spot behind her ear, before moving down over her neck. His hips pinned her to the door as his hands grasped her sides, his thumbs grazing her nipples before he dipped his head to take one in his mouth through the fabric of the dress.

Her hips bucked against him again at the sensation, a strangled cry leaving her throat when he flicked the hard peak with his tongue, “Oh fuck.”

He pulled his thigh back, replacing it with his fingers running feather light touches along her inner thigh. Her eyes fluttered shut when he lifted his fingers to her already wet panties, running them across the soft fabric to tease her.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice shaky as she squirmed beneath him.

His lips connected with her in a bruising kiss as he finally pulled the thin scrap of fabric aside and ran his fingers along her slick folds.

She bucked her hips towards his fingers, a small moan of “Maker” escaping her lips as she dropped the back of her head against the door, wrapping one leg around his hips to give him better access.

That was all the encouragement he needed as he slid one finger inside of her. Her muscles tightened around him, attempting to pull him in further. He added a second finger and worked them in and out, his thumb caressing her swollen clit.

She rocked against his hand, wanting more.

He took her cues, curling his fingers inside of her as he continued to pump, allowing the sounds she made to guide his movements. He noticed the way her body tightened, the way her face contorted in pleasure, the way her orgasm overtook her.

Swallowing her gasps and moans with a kiss, he slid his free arm around her waist to hold her up as the convulsions wracked her body, reveling in the way her muscles tensed and pulled his fingers deeper inside of her.

When her breathing finally calmed, he withdrew his fingers from inside her, one last shudder running through her body at the loss.

She fluttered her eyes up toward him and he lifted his fingers, still slick with her arousal, to his mouth. He groaned as he tasted her. It was better than he could have ever imagined.

He wanted more. He needed more.

Her hands were at his waist, fumbling with his zipper. He grabbed hold of her wrists to stop her. His body was begging to be touched by her, to be buried inside of her, but the first time with her wasn't going to be against the door of his office.

He would take his time and give her beautiful body pleasure all night in as many ways as he could. He would make it good for her. He would make it last.

“Upstairs." He released her wrists as he stepped away from her. Taking the brief reprieve to catch his breath.

It took several deep breaths of her before she shakily made her way toward the ladder. Cullen followed close behind, conscious to keep his hands to himself as much as he wanted to touch her.

When he reached the loft, she was standing awkwardly, her eyes looking anywhere except the bed in the middle of the room. The covers were still rumpled from the night before, but he watched her swallow as her darkened eyes flitted between it and him.

“Turn around,” he told her.

Without a word, she turned. He brushed the hair away from the back of her neck and slid her coat off her shoulders. Once he had, he lifted his hands to the zipper of her dress, sliding it down slowly, simultaneously kissing his way down her back.

Her body trembled beneath his lips. Her bare back was erotic in a way he’d never thought about before, he could spend hours exploring the smooth expanse of her back with his hands and his mouth.

When he was finally done with the zipper, he pushed the dress down over her shoulders, her arms, over the flare of her hips with tantalizing slowness. He hooked his thumbs in her panties, pulling them down with the dress, until she stood completely bare in front of him.

He ran his hands back up along the curves of her body as he stood, his hands faltering at the feel of her breasts, nipples pebbled in the cold mountain air. His mouth felt hot against the back of her neck and she moaned, arching her back, her ass pressing into his crotch as he touched her.

“On the bed,” he groaned, needing to put some space between them.

Cullen admired the shape of her body as she crawled onto the bed and turned over, stretching out. Maker, she looked like a goddess spread out before him. He raked his eyes over her, drinking in the perfection of her curves, softer than he was accustomed to, but perfectly suited to her in every way.

He grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head before dropping it on the floor next to her clothes.

In several short steps, he closed the distance between them before his hands gripped her hips. He dragged her toward him at the edge of the bed. He pressed his body firmly into hers as he kissed her, his fingers teasing her tight nipples as he trailed hot kisses along her jaw and neck.

“You feel so good,” Ariana moaned as she arched into him, her hands exploring the muscles of his back.

He kissed his way down her body and took one nipple in his mouth, a hand mimicking the motions of his mouth and tongue on the other. She raked her fingers through his hair, gripping him as he lavished attention on her. Although he could have made love to her breasts forever, the sounds she was making—those desperate pleas, the loud mewling—told him she needed more, so much more.

Hands slid down over her waist and hips as he leaned back onto his heels, kneeling in front of her. He pulled her closer still to the edge of the bed and spread her legs wide in front of him.

His breathing hitched at the sight of her, her lower lips swollen and wet with her arousal. He ran his hands along her inner thighs as he watched the way her pussy clenched and pulsed under his gaze, wetness dripping down through her slick folds.

He could smell her arousal, both earthy and sweet, and couldn’t wait to have his fill of her. He’d already tasted her, already touched her, already felt her heat on his fingers, but all he wanted was to bury his face in her and make her come again and again.

With one hand, he spread her lower lips before dropping his head between her legs to taste her, to delve his tongue inside of her. He lapped at her folds with abandon as her thighs quivered around his head.

“Cullen, please...”

His hands wrapped around her hips to pin her to the bed as she strained toward his mouth, her fingers digging into the back of his head, urging him on as she chased another orgasm.

With several last flicks of his tongue, her legs tightened around him as she quaked in her release. He contentedly continued to run his tongue softly over her as she came down, licking up every last drop of her. When he finally lifted his head, she was propped up on her elbows watched him, her eyes dark with lust.

“You taste better than I’d ever dreamed,” he told her, kissing along one of her thighs before he crawled back over her.

"You dreamed about that?" She breathed.

“All the time,” he confessed.

She reached toward him, dropping her hands down along his body to slowly unbutton and lower the zipper of his trousers. She reached down to grab hold of him.

Cullen moaned at the warmth of her hand wrapped around him, even more when she slowly stroked her hand to the base and then back up. 

She gave him a gentle push, rolling him into his back. The hand wrapped around his erection continued to stroke him as she pushed his trousers down. “You are so beautiful,” she murmured as her fingers explored the ridges and lines of his hard length.

His cock jumped in her hands as her grey eyes flitted over to look at him. “Did you dream about this?”

When she started to lower her head toward him, Cullen went rigid. No, not this. Too many times had the demons used this against him, a woman—_this woman_—kneeling to give him pleasure. The doubt crept in, that small voice telling him it could be another dream.

His hand was already fisted in the hair at the back of her neck, pulling her away. "Don't."

Blood rushed in his ears. It couldn't be another dream. Everything about her, about _this_, felt real.

She blinked at him, hand stilling. "But—"

"I don't want that." He slid off the bed and stood, running his hands through his hair. "I can't…"

Her arms wrapped around him from behind as he struggled to slow his rapid breathing. "We don't have to," she murmured as she kissed his shoulders, her hands sliding down again to push his trousers down over his hips.

Feeling her naked body pressed against him, the gentle firmness of her touch… he turned in her arms and kissed her. His lips finding hers in a hungry, needy kiss. His hands roamed over her body, feeling the smoothness of her skin, the curves of her hips, the swell of her breasts.

A breathy moan escaped her lips when they finally broke apart, she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, pulling him back in.

They somehow ended up on his bed, limbs tangled, tongues twisting together, gasping for breath. He hovered over her on his forearms and she reached between them, grabbing his throbbing cock. 

He hesitated again, the sensation that this was too good to be true threatening to overwhelm him. Ariana had her eyes closed as her hand played with him, rubbing him against her wet heat, pressing the tip of him at her entrance.

When she finally opened her eyes to look up at him, her eyes were dark with lust. He could feel the muscles in his neck straining as it took every ounce of self control not to bury himself inside of her.

“Ariana...”

“Need you inside of me,” she begged, angling her hips up toward him as she positioned him. “Please.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. He didn't care anymore what was and wasn't real. If it was merely some trick of the Fade, he would deal with the repercussions in the morning.

He entered her in one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt. She cried out and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her body trembling at his hard length inside of her. She was so much hotter, so much wetter, so much tighter than his wildest dreams. Countless times he’d thought about what it would be like to be inside of her for the first time. And this… he’d never imagined it could be like this. It was more, so much more. So much more. 

As though he'd gone to the Maker's side.

He stilled as she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking them together behind him as her body adjusted to the size of him. When she began to move against him, he began a slow rhythm, sliding his cock almost all the way until only the tip remained before sinking back inside of her. 

Maker's breath, inside of her was where he belonged. It was everything. 

She clung to him, digging her fingers into his shoulders around him as they moved. The bed squeaked beneath them in time with each gasp.

The way it felt to slide in and out of her had him close to reaching his own pleasure far sooner than he’d anticipated. The wetness of her, the way her muscles wrapped around him, clenching him, holding him in… it had him dangerously close to the edge.

“Come for me,” he told her through gritted teeth, trying to keep control of each plunged inside of her. Even. Smooth. Out. Back in.

Her head was thrown back, her eyes pressed together, her arms wrapped around his back, holding him close as she met him thrust for thrust.

“I don't know if I can… I've already—” She broke off when he shifted the angle of his hips as he drove into her. "Oh... oh fuck."

Her back bowed and he watched her face tighten then release in pleasure as she exploded once more. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

And Maker, he was home. Everything about the way he felt in that moment, in watching her, feeling her, was indescribable. Her inner muscles milked his straining cock, pulsing around him. He hovered on the edge of nothing and then—

He buried his head in her neck as he came undone, crying out her name as he spilled his seed inside of her. With several final pumps, he collapsed and she held him as the shudders wracked his body.

Cullen couldn’t form a coherent thought as he felt himself pulsing inside of her, felt the warmth of her, the realness of her and he knew that he would never be the same again. 

His breath turned heavy and deep as he came down from the high. Everything about her was both more real and unreal than anyone he’d ever been with. It was home and real and perfect and—

Cullen shuddered as she unhooked her ankles, dropping her legs to the bed. He pressed closer to her, feeling the warmth of her body under him.

Real. She was real.

He cupped her face and looked into her eyes. The voice at the back of his head kept telling him it wasn’t real, but he wanted to remember what this moment felt like, the moment when he had finally been with the woman who consumed his thoughts, his fantasies, and his dreams.

And she’d been perfect. Everything he’d ever wanted and more.

He grabbed a blanket, pulling it over them, wrapping it and his arms around her. She tucked her head into his chest and within minutes he heard her heavily breathing, already fast asleep.

He ran his hands along her back, tangling his hands in her hair as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, searing the moment in his heart as he drifted off to his own blissful sleep. She was safe. Comfortable. Like home.

When Cullen woke the next morning, he didn’t have to open his eyes to know the bed next to him was empty and cold. He could still taste her on his tongue and still smell her arousal in the sheets if he breathed deeply enough, but his mind had been known to play tricks on him before. His demons known to torment him.

He held close the image of her face when she came undone around him: the way her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth dropped open; the way her chest heaved; the pink tint of her cheeks; and the sound that emanated deep in her chest and spread up through her throat and out of her beautiful lips.

It had been real. It had to be.

With a sigh, Cullen opened his eyes.


	16. Chapter 16

Sneaking out in the middle of the night had not been her finest moment. Ariana hadn't wanted to risk anyone finding her in such a... compromising position—especially not the risk of word getting back to her sister if she was—so she gathered up her clothing and crawled down the ladder. Thankfully, it had been at such an hour that no one had seen her skulking through the halls of Skyhold. Between her wrinkled dress and scent of sex that clung to her, it was obvious what she’d been doing.

And now, in the harsh light of midday, she was ashamed. 

Not because she’d jumped into bed with him. She would never regret _that_. That had been… She didn’t even know how to describe it. Every fantasy she’d ever had would have to be rewritten now that she’d had him. It was everything. Primal, raw, all-consuming, and frenzied in its intensity. 

But now she didn’t even know how to look him in the eye after sneaking out like a thief in the night. _That_ she was ashamed of. What must he think of her?

It had been so mind-blowing she didn't know how to move forward. Her past lovers had been… adequate enough. She'd even thought them good at the time. But with Cullen the desire to have him inside of her, to come undone around him, had been so intense... She had never experienced something as overwhelming as her need for the man. Her attraction to the man. It was like a hunger.

And last night had done nothing to quench the need. She wanted him more, needed him more than she had before. Than she ever thought possible. Especially now that she knew exactly how good they were together. She could spend every minute of the day naked in his arms and it would never be enough.

Ariana felt as though she were losing her mind. She didn't know if she could even act normal around him, in part because of her shame for leaving, but more so because seeing him would remind her of all the amazing things he'd done to her body. Her body that was aching so beautifully in the aftermath. 

Unfortunately for her, she’d be seeing him in three... two... one...

“Bann Trevelyan,” Josephine greeted her as she stepped through the door of the war room. “Thank you for joining us.”

Ariana gave a forced smile as she entered the room, tentatively walking toward the large table in the center of the room. The three advisors stood on the opposite side: Leliana on the left, giving her a disinterested, but polite, smile; Cullen in the middle, staring down at the table between them, spinning a small, metal map marker in one of his hands; and Josephine on the left, her tablet and stylus in hand as she warmly smiled at Ariana.

Ariana took a breath and looked around at the room. It was grand, almost as grand as the main hall, with a ceiling that soared equally as high and stained glass windows equally as intricate and beautiful. 

She studied the table Cullen was staring at. A large map of Thedas was laid out with a number of different markers placed all over it. The table underneath the map, however, took her breath away. The wood was a single slice through a massive tree, much larger than even the stump of the tree that it was set upon. It was easily three times longer than she was tall. She reached out toward it, running her fingers along the smooth surface, worn by time. 

“This is beautiful,” she murmured, feeling the light throbbing of the wood beneath her fingers. She could tell that the table had been here, at Skyhold, for as long as this place had existed. Maybe even longer. It was ancient. 

She glanced up to see the three advisors watching her and, of the three, only Cullen’s gaze burned with more than simple curiosity.

She quickly withdrew her hand from the table. 

“I’d forgotten you’ve not been in here yet,” Josephine told her. “Welcome to the war room.”

Leliana unclasped her hands from behind her back and placed a marker on the Ferelden side of the map. “We’d like you to go to Redcliffe with the commander.” 

Ariana’s eyes flitted up to him. He was decidedly not looking at her again, eyes remaining focused on the map between them. 

“The arl has made some additional requests before he’s willing to commit resources to the Inquisition. We’d like you and the commander to help persuade him.”

Ariana’s heart—no, scratch that, it couldn’t be her heart—but _something_ inside her fluttered at the thought of spending so much time with him, knowing what she now knew. Her body ached in the most exquisite way for him.

Josephine looked up from her tablet. “You’ll be there on behalf of the Inquisition, in an official capacity as negotiator.”

“Commander, did you decide on the others?” Leliana asked.

“Karner and Braga are both Fereldan,” he said as he continued to stare down at the map. “They’re also two of our best trainers, so we’ll have something to offer if the negotiations go well.”

“Have you checked with Dennet on the SUVs? They’ll need to leave today if they’re to arrive in time.”

Ariana’s face must have shown her confusion, as Josephine turned to address her. “The arl has offered the use of his personal helicopter to transport you to and from Redcliffe.” 

She gave Josephine a panicked look, but the ambassador continued nonplussed, “We kindly accepted his offer for tomorrow, but I’ve let the arl know you’d like to see some of the former refugees who have resettled in the Hinterlands. You and the commander will return by road.”

That last comment earned the ambassador her most grateful look.

“Wouldn’t it be more efficient for us to fly there and back?” Cullen asked. “I don’t have time for—”

“Take your laptop, the Inquisition can survive more than a week without you here.”

“A week?” Ariana interjected.

“Or more,” Leliana shrugged, “It will depend on how things go.” The pointed look she gave Ariana made her clamp her mouth shut.

Cullen let out a loud sigh. “I’ll inform Rylen of my absence. Karner and Braga will depart this evening. Now if that’s all…”

“Of course, good afternoon, Commander,” Josephine chirped, a bright smile on her face. 

Cullen turned to exit as Josephine shifted her attention to Ariana. “We missed you last night, Bann. I don’t know if Varric will ever forgive you for leaving us alone with Bull and Sera.”

Leliana snapped her head up from the map to look at Ariana before sliding her gaze over to where Cullen hesitated.

"I’m sorry. I, um…" Ariana floundered, unsure of how to respond. "Something came up?"

Leliana didn’t outwardly react, but Ariana could sense the spymaster putting the pieces into place, especially when she lifted her hand to stop Cullen. “Commander, did you complete that report I sent over last night?”

“In your inbox this morning,” he told her, stepping around her. “Excuse me, I need to make arrangements to be away for so long.”

***

Karner and Braga departed that evening after the war room meeting, each one driving one of the SUVs, since he and the bann would need one for their return from Redcliffe. 

Cullen was annoyed that Josephine requested they visit former refugees after their trip to Redcliffe, especially since the arl had so kindly offered the use of his helicopter.

Now, instead of a travel time of several hours, they were looking at a minimum of two days back. It wasn’t so much the amount of time, but the amount of time he’d have to spend alone with the bann.

Except for that brief time period in the war room when he couldn’t bring himself to look at her too long, he hadn't seen her since their night together. Memories of her naked body against his, under his, around his… It had been real. After Josephine’s comment he’d known it was. She had been in his bed that night and they had been together in such a mind-blowing way. 

And then she’d left. Disappearing in the middle of the night and… nothing.

Maybe she regretted it. Maybe she didn’t feel the same. She’d certainly seemed to be enjoying herself, but… Maker. What a mess. The helicopter ride would be awkward, but survivable. The return trip involving multiple days of driving would be worse.

Cullen heard the drone of chopper blades in the distance. With a sigh, he grabbed his pack and headed toward the landing pad. Ariana must have taken the back stairs as she was already waiting outside the landing zone, an assistant holding a large suitcase.

She stiffened as he stepped into her line of sight at the same time several of the arl’s men exited the chopper and ran toward them. One man stowed their bags as the other assisted them into the helicopter. 

Cullen stepped aside to let Ariana enter first, so she could sit next to the window, but she shook her head and refused to get in.

All right then. 

Cullen slid across the seat and buckled himself in. Ariana followed, sitting between Cullen and one of the arl’s men while the other took the front seat. Her hands shook as she struggled with the seat buckle. The man next to her helped her, making sure she was securely buckled with her headset on, before telling the pilot they were ready.

He could feel the nervous energy rolling off her as the blades sped up and the chopper lifted off the landing pad. Out of the side of his eye, he could see the way her lips pressed into a thin line, the pale color of her usually warm skin, and her hands tightly clasped together. 

The Frostbacks sprawled beneath them, but he couldn’t focus his attention out the window when the woman who consumed his waking thoughts and dreams, his living fantasy sitting next to him, looked like she might throw up or pass out. Or both.

“Are you all right?” He asked through the headset, turning to look at her. 

She tightly nodded, her eyes staring straight ahead at the instruments of the cockpit. 

They banked left toward Ferelden and Ariana gripped the seat beside her legs, the muscles of her arms working as she tightened her hold. She furrowed her eyebrows together as her eyes closed, a prayer—or curse—on her lips.

The realization of what was happening slammed into him. She was afraid of flying. That understanding put the travel arrangements in an entirely new light. Josephine arranged for them to drive back for _Ariana_. 

He let out a slow breath as they banked again and she gripped the seat even tighter. Cullen wanted to grab hold of the hand gripping the seat between them. He wanted to tell her it was going to be okay. But he didn’t know how she’d react to his presumption, so he sat staring out the window, praying that Andraste would help calm her nerves.

The trip proceeded peacefully, for the most part. At least it did until they crested the last mountain of the Frostbacks and the chopper hit some turbulence.

Ariana had been sitting with her hands in her lap, but she reached out to grab whatever she could, one hand connecting with Cullen’s thigh. He flinched as the zing of her touch shot through his body, settling straight between his legs.

She turned toward him with a horrified look on her face, rushing an apology. Cullen couldn’t help but laugh. Not because of her fear, but because of her reaction. 

He intertwined their fingers, holding her hand against his leg. “There, let’s try this for the remainder of the flight, shall we?” She blushed, but gave him a grateful smile as she clutched his hand. He rubbed his thumb against hers in a soothing gesture, turning to stare out the window at the ground below while willing himself to breathe.

Every sense was alight at the connection. His body was rejoicing at touching her again, even if it was no more than her hand in his. Memories of all the places he’d touched her began flashing through his mind. Each breath he took in an attempt to calm himself bore the scent of her and had him remembering what it had been like to taste her.

She squeezed his hand in a panic as they banked. Her grip was firm, but soft, and his body remembered all too well the ways she'd used those hands on him. Cullen bit back a groan. This was going to be the longest flight of his life.

Ariana finally released his hand once they’d landed inside the gates of Redcliffe Castle. As she climbed out of the helicopter, he made a quick adjustment to conceal his now rather blatant desire for her. He hoped she hadn't noticed.

Arl Teagan was waiting to greet them in the courtyard with a small entourage. “Inquisition! Welcome to Redcliffe. Thank the Maker under better circumstances than the last time you were here.” 

He turned toward Ariana, holding out his hand to greet her as she approached him at the bottom of the stairs. “Bann Trevelyan, it is my honor to host you again at Redcliffe Castle.” 

Cullen couldn’t help but roll his eyes—at least internally—at the production of the arl bending over Ariana’s hand and giving her a kiss on the cheek, before gesturing toward a woman behind him. “Agnes here will show you to your room.”

His gut clenched a little at Ariana’s warm smile and the way she wrapped the arl’s hand in both of hers, her hands lingering even as she started to walk away. Both Cullen and Teagan stared after her, watching her climb the steps to the main door.

Once Ariana disappeared through the doors of the castle, the arl turned toward him and continued, “Commander, it is an honor to have you here again as well. Your soldiers will lodge in the barracks when they arrive, we have space awaiting them. However, as is befitting your station, we have a room prepared for you. Come.”

One of the arl’s men showed him to his room. It was modest, but more than enough for him. The man let him know that dinner would begin in several hours in the main hall and disappeared.

Finally alone, Cullen allowed himself to indulge in the fantasies of her. His hand was a poor substitute now that he had been inside of her and knew the utter perfection of her wrapped around him, but it would have to do. If only to keep from embarrassing himself in front of the entirety of Redcliffe Castle.

Several hours later, freshly showered and dressed in a new set of Fereldan formal wear, he left his room and headed to the main hall. He checked his phone as he descended the steps. Braga and Karner wouldn’t arrive until morning at the earliest, so it would only be him and Ariana tonight.

A serving woman showed him to his seat at the main table, where he was quickly joined by two women dressed to garner attention. His eyes had been scanning the crowd since he entered the room, but he’d not yet seen Ariana.

The young woman on his left had long, blonde hair with curls cascading down her back. Her pale skin was highlighted by the dark dress she wore, cleavage accentuated by the cut of the gown. The woman on his right was dark-haired with pale eyes. She was pretty enough, he supposed, but she didn’t hold a candle to the woman who was every fantasy he'd had and more.

The woman who was still absent from the room, much to his disappointment.

He pulled out his phone to check the time again. As he scrolled through his emails from the afternoon, the two women began a conversation across him. Each one draped themselves over the arms of his chair as they bent toward each other to converse. The blonde one kept fluttering her eyelids at him. He was increasingly uncomfortable with the seating arrangements and was considering making a phone call to escape, when the room fell silent. 

His eyes followed those of the rest of the room to the side door where Ariana entered on the arm of the arl. She was resplendent in a deep red gown. Her hair had been styled into braids intertwined with gold ribbon, wrapped around her hair like a crown. Like royalty.

It was a stark reminder of how far apart their two lives were and Cullen didn't want to be reminded of that. Not anymore.

Arl Teagan was smitten as he led her up to the main table, sitting her to his left, while Cullen and his two companions were seated at the arl’s right hand. Conversations around the room started back up as the food began to pour in. 

She was radiant. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He was entranced by the way she sipped from her goblet, bright eyes dancing over the rim, but they were solely focused on the arl. Jealousy washed over him. It was irrational. There was nothing more than a one night stand between them after all, but now that he’d finally gotten a taste of her, it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t willing—

“Commander.” The arl turned to him, interrupting his thoughts. “I know that we planned to meet tomorrow, but we’ve had several days of good weather and I have half a mind to take Bann Trevelyan riding tomorrow instead.” 

Cullen choked on his wine at the word ‘riding’ and the images of Ariana it conjured in his head. Maker preserve him.

“Would you mind terribly if we put off beginning the negotiations for one day?” Ariana asked as she twirled her finger around the rim of her glass, her eyelashes fluttering at Cullen. 

“Of course” was all he managed to get out, trying not flinch as the blonde woman next to him trailed her hand along his leg toward his crotch. Between Ariana’s eyes and the unseen hand creeping up his leg, he forgot to breathe.

The brunette leaned over and whispered, “More time for us then.” The two women giggled as Cullen closed his eyes and sent a prayer to Andraste to save him. 

When he opened his eyes, Ariana was glaring at him, anger flashing in her stormy grey eyes. Was she angry that he’d agreed to delay the negotiations? Or was she jealous? Hope briefly fluttered, the same hope he’d harbored every time she gave him some inkling of interest. 

She wrinkled her nose in a quick sneer and directed her eyes down to the woman’s wandering hand near his crotch. So she was jealous. The hope that had been fluttering took flight.

“My lady, you must come riding with me tomorrow. I insist on showing you Redcliffe.” 

Ariana turned her face toward the arl, a smile returning as the flash of jealousy disappeared. “I’ve heard much of the beauty of these lands, Your Grace, I’d be honored to see it for myself.”

Cullen lifted his eyes toward the ceiling. There was no reason he needed to be here for this. He would finish his meal and go back to his room, back to safety where there were no wandering hands except his own. Where he didn’t have to suffer through watching her flirting with another man. He needed to be anywhere else but here.

He heard Ariana’s voice over the din. “Today’s travel has taken a toll on me. If we’re to ride much tomorrow, I need to beg my leave.”

“Of course, my dear.” Teagan rose, offering his hand to her.

After they’d exited through the same side door, the room seemed to lose all of its energy. People began drifting away. Some to bed and some to other venues for further nighttime activities. The two women on either side of him continued to make conversation and continued their attempts to flirt with him, but Cullen extracted himself from their grasp and headed upstairs.

***

With a final pull of the old metal lock in her door, Ariana was alone. Finally.

From the moment she'd left her room in Skyhold until now, she'd been with other people. Mostly servants, as they'd helped her settled into her room at the castle, before making sure she bathed and properly dressed for dinner. Ariana hated the way they'd dolled her up for the arl as though she were a gift. Or a prize.

Like he'd somehow _earned_ her.

She stripped out of her gown and ripped the ribbons from her hair. Turning the shower on as hot as she could, she stepped under the scalding spray and sank down to the ground. She wrapped her arms around her legs and buried her face in her knees as the water ran over her.

The day had been sheer torture. Although her fear of flying didn't help, the long helicopter ride of being next to Cullen, feeling the warmth of his body, remembering what he felt like… She groaned, dropping her head back against the shower wall. 

The way he'd rubbed her thumb… it had been meant to be soothing, but every cell in Ariana's body had been burning with desire for him. She knew she wasn't the only one when she saw his obvious desire for her, but that only fanned the flames within her.

She now knew her decision to sneak out and pretend like their night together never happened had to be the worst decision she'd ever made. Ever. It would be laughable if hadn't been so foolish.

The only thing that got her through the afternoon was knowing that she'd see him that evening. That she'd see the man who'd lit her world on fire. And tonight when she'd walked into that room and seen the two women draped over him, she'd wanted to turn around and leave. 

While she was being pursued by a man old enough to be her father, Cullen had been presented with two stunning women who looked more than willing to make his fantasies come true. It was no wonder he'd hardly spared her a glance all night and hadn't reacted to her flirtation. She'd exercised what little bit of control she did have to beg off for the night rather than force herself to see more.

The water began to turn cold. Ariana hurried through scrubbing her face clean, drying off with an oversized towel before she made her way back into the room.

She climbed into bed, feeling the softness of the sheets against her naked skin. Sleep was the last thing on her mind as she let it return to thoughts of Cullen. Of the night he'd changed her world.

One hand slipped down between her legs, fingers dipping to the wetness already pooling there. She spread it up to her clit, lightly rubbing circles as her other hand ran up her abdomen. Fingers brushed against her nipples, already peaked in the coolness of the night air. 

There was a tingling at her spine with each circle and each brush of her fingers. She imagined Cullen's hands in their place, his long, perfect fingers touching her in the way she touched herself. She imagined the way he'd looked when he settled between her legs, his eyes hungry, looking as though he could—and _would_—feast on her all night long.

"Oh Maker…" she groaned aloud, dipping several fingers inside of herself, imagining his fingers doing the same. The way he'd used his tongue on her clit, the way he'd tasted her and lapped at her as though he would never have enough.

She slid her fingers deeper inside her, trying to reach the spot Cullen had all too easily found, and touched, and stroked… Her other hand ghosted it's way down to run her clit, imaging him using his mouth and his fingers to bring her to the edge.

As she touched herself, the fantasy shifted. She imagined him standing in front of her, hardened cock in hand, eyes molten gold as he watched her pleasure herself. She wanted to feel him inside of her, wanted to come undone around him. 

She increased the pressure and speed of her fingers, chasing after that high. She was so close, if only—The thought of his hard cock sliding inside of her, of how incredible he felt buried in her, pushed her to her peak, the brief moment of pleasure followed by relief that flowed through her in soft waves. She worked herself through her orgasm, slowing her movements as she came down. 

When she'd finally caught her breath, she rolled over, burying her face in her pillow with a frustrated groan. It hadn't been enough. She felt as much on edge as she had been all day. 

Now that she knew what it could be like, her hands would _never_ be enough.


	17. Chapter 17

Ariana was finishing the last of the pins in her hair as she sat in front of the mirror. Her black hair was striking against the all white of her riding outfit. The black boots and navy blazer were near the door, she’d put them on before leaving.

She looked in the mirror at the serving woman behind her and gave her a smile. “Would you please get the commander for me?”

The woman paused. “Commander… Cullen?”

“Is there another commander staying at the castle?”

“No, ma’am. I’ll fetch him at once.” She curtsied, disappearing quickly through the door. The minutes ticked by as she waited for the servant to return. 

Maybe he wouldn’t come.

The door opened and the servant entered, Cullen close behind her. She studied him in the mirror without turning around, lifting another pin to her hair to buy more time. He wasn’t wearing his uniform yet. Instead, he was casually dressed in a white shirt with several buttons undone, haphazardly tucked into his trousers. His golden locks were tousled and curly. 

She tamped down the sick feeling in her stomach at the question of why he was still undressed at this hour, remembering the two women who'd been all over him the previous evening. She'd had to leave before she said or did something she might regret.

Like she might be doing now. 

“Commander, thank you for coming.” He nodded at her in response.

Ariana turned on her stool to address the servant. “Leave us.”

The servant bowed her head, closing the door as she backed out of the room. 

Ariana stood and walked to the small sitting area in her room. She took a seat on the small couch and indicated he should do the same. He warily eyed her as he eased himself into the armchair across from her. She focused on the tray in front of her. “Tea?”

“Tea?” He was staring at her as though she was speaking a language other than Common.

“I understand that’s what Fereldans prefer to drink in the morning.”

He let out a low chuckle. “As opposed to… what? Whiskey?”

Her eyes danced as they flitted up to meet his. “Only if it's in coffee. Sugar?” 

“One, thanks.”

She dropped the sugar into the cup, stirring it until it disappeared, before handing the cup to him. Once she’d done so, she leaned back to watch him. He closed his eyes as he inhaled the scent and took a sip before he opened them again to meet her gaze.

“You wanted to see me?” He asked. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ve seen you plenty.” His eyebrows shot up at her bluntness, but he didn't speak, instead taking another sip of his tea. 

“What I wanted was to speak to you. Alone.” He didn’t move as he waited for her to continue, his eyes focused on her. “About what happened…” She ventured, hesitating at the words that were more difficult to say out loud than she expected.

The silence hung heavily between them. He sighed, setting his cup down. “You don’t have to—”

“Do you regret it?” Her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper as she broke eye contact. Unable to meet his eyes, unwilling to see whatever truth was in them.

“What?” His voice was sharp, cutting through her.

“Because if you do, I’ll never speak of it again, but—”

“No. I do _not_ regret anything.” He was kneeling in front of her, his hand cupping her chin, turning her face back toward him. His eyes searched hers, a hopeful look in them.

“Then why—”

“I thought _you_ did.”

"You did?" She pressed her hands into her lap, willing her heart to stop fluttering. Her voice was scarcely more than a whisper. She didn’t know where this inability to breathe had come from. 

“You disappeared. And then...” His hand traced her jaw and his eyes dropped down to her lips. “Well, I didn’t even know if...”

“I couldn’t be discovered. My sister...” She captured her lower lip between her teeth.

“Your sister what?”

She drew back from him slightly as she shook her head, “We can’t do this. I don’t even know why I asked you here.” 

She made a move to stand, attempting to press him out of her way but he captured her hands instead, bringing them to his lips to press a soft kiss to her fingertips. She shuddered as the warmth of his lips shot up her arms. 

He stood, pulling her up with him. His arm wrapped around her waist, the other moving back up to cup her chin, tilting it towards him. “Because you feel this, too.”

“Cullen…”

His kiss was gentle, at first. A chaste kiss that soon turned insistent, his mouth encouraging her lips to open further, his tongue slipping inside to tease her. His musky scent assaulted her senses as she gripped his shirt, pulling him closer. His hand left her face to grip the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, bending her slightly backwards, as though he couldn’t get enough. The hand around her waist slid to her hip. She moaned out loud as she pressed her hips toward him, his hardening length pressed between them. 

She broke off the kiss, gasping for air, one hand pressing on his chest, the other still grasping his shirt. “Wait.”

“I’ve waited long enough.” He dipped his face back toward hers, but she twisted out of his embrace, moving behind the armchair he’d been sitting in to give them some separation. 

She lifted her hands, palms toward the ceiling, as she gestured around them. “Look at where we are.”

He blinked and she watched the realization dawn that they were in the arl’s guest room. “Maker, Ariana, I—” He broke off as his hand found the back of his head and he looked away. His golden hair caught in the rays of the morning sunlight streaming through her window as his fingers ran through it, the slight waves contributing to the look of having recently rolled out of bed. 

The thin fabric of his white shirt did nothing to hide the shape of his chest, those firm muscles that she’d touched and explored several days before. Her mouth went dry when her eyes ventured lower to his erection beginning to show in his trousers, the realization that he was as turned on by her as she was by him right now did nothing to quell the heat pooling between her legs. 

Without thinking, she swiftly walked toward the door. His voice was panicked behind her. “No, don’t—” 

With a dull thud, she flipped the lock into place. “We have twenty minutes before I’m expected in the courtyard.” 

He was on her before she finished turning around, pressing her back into the door as his lips found hers. His actions frenzied as he grappled with her zipper, slipping a hand inside her slacks to begin running his fingers along her slit. She tried to give him as much space as possible as she moaned into his mouth, he kissed his way to her ear and whispered, “Quiet.”

He slipped one finger inside of her and she bit her lip to stop from letting out another moan. His other hand found its way to her breast and began teasing her nipple through the fabric, the hard peak straining against the smooth fabric of her white shirt. He dropped his mouth to her neck as he pressed a second finger inside her. It was her fantasy, but better. Better because it was him touching her. She clutched his shoulders as he pumped his fingers inside of her, continuing his ministrations on her nipples. When he began to work his thumb against her clit, she felt the orgasm began to ripple through her. 

“Oh, Cullen... I’m going to—” His hand clamped over her mouth as she came, her cry muffled as he continued to work her through the waves of pleasure with his hand. 

When she became aware of the room again, she realized he’d carried her over to the bed. He pulled her slacks down and off before fumbling with his zipper. She reached for him, hands at his hips, tugging him toward her. He hesitated, concern in his eyes as he stood over her. “Maybe we shouldn’t…”

“For Andraste's sake,” she exhaled, wrapping her hand around his erection. He closed his eyes, sucking in a breath as she guided him to her heated core. “Would you please fuck me already?"

He pushed inside her. The sensation of him filling her took her breath away. She wrapped her legs around him, wanting to feel him even deeper. He captured her lips with his as he started to move. His thrusts began slowly, sliding all the way out before he took another plunging stroke back inside of her.

Ariana felt the pleasure building again on the fringes of her consciousness. She reached for it, desperately wanting to come with him inside of her, wanting to have that sense of wholeness that she'd found around him. She’d been focusing on not making any noise, on listening to the sounds of their bodies coming together, on feeling the way he touched her and the way his cock felt inside of her, when Cullen dropped his mouth to her ear. She could feel the heat of his breath as he murmured, “Look at me.”

She opened her eyes and looked into his, focusing on the pools of golden liquid there, the shifting and shimmering of the molten amber as he claimed her. She was so close, she felt the tension within her, she wanted so badly to come.

“Not yet,” he gritted as he continued to thrust into her. She focused on his face, on the way he looked as he moved inside of her. She took in the sweat dotting the creases on his forehead, the wrinkles at the edges of his eyes, the way his mouth tensed into a thin line, and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

He was mesmerizingly beautiful in his passion. As long as she focused on him, she could hold off. Hold on. Wait. For him.

His rhythm was becoming more erratic, his movements quicker, more insistent, needier. She clenched her inner muscles around his cock, he pushed into her and let out a quiet groan, “Come.” 

Her eyes widened as she let the waves of pleasure rise within her as he plunged into her several last times. As he did, her orgasm once again exploded within her, rocking through her. She kept her eyes open, watching Cullen’s own orgasm flow through his body. She watched the way his face tensed, the sharp breaths, his mouth dropping open in pleasure...

She was so focused on him, on keeping silent, the intensity of his molten eyes locked on hers, she forgot to breathe.

When she finally let out a soft moan, it matched Cullen’s slight grunt as the last of the spasms passed through his body and he collapsed on top of her. She wrapped her arms around him, reveling in the feeling of his warm body on top of her again. 

It felt so right.

But time was running short, she had to get herself together. “Cullen?”

“Mmmm?” He asked, nestling his face into her neck, taking in a deep breath. He rocked his hips into her and Ariana fought the urge to groan aloud. How was it possible that he felt this good? 

She already wanted him again, but she couldn’t, there wasn't time. “I need to go.” 

With a sigh, he rolled off her and sat on the edge of the bed, tucking his spent cock back into his trousers. “You’d be better riding right here in this bed,” he grumbled.

She slid off the bed and grabbed her own slacks, struggling to slip her legs back inside of them. When she had them zipped up, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. 

“How do I look?” She asked, smoothing back her hair. 

“Ravished and beautiful.” He dropped his lips to give her a breathtaking kiss. He frowned before saying, “Ariana, there’s something I... We haven’t used protection. Do you—”

“Oh. It's fine,” she interrupted. “I’m on the pill.”

“Yes, but—” 

Ariana cut him off again before he could finish. She knew where this conversation was heading. “Well, the results for my last screening will be emailed by noon. I’d appreciate if you send me yours, too.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Whatever. Now if you’ll—” 

He tugged her arm, pulling her back toward him. Surprised, she stopped talking and looked up into his face. “If you’d let me finish,” he told her, cupping her chin. “What I want to know is if you would like for me to use condoms anyway, so that it’s not all on you.” 

That was _not_ what she'd expected him to say. “I… no. But thank you. That’s… rather thoughtful.” She pressed a quick kiss to his lips and pulled out of his arms. “But now I really must go or they’ll come looking for me.” 

***

Braga texted him that he and Karner had arrived, so Cullen left the bann’s room and headed straight for the courtyard. He caught sight of Ariana as he exited the main doors. She had her back to him, the braid of her dark hair shining in the mid-morning sun as the arl leaned toward her, his hand on her as he said something that made her giggle.

Cullen felt a pull at his heartstrings, watching the two of them with their heads bowed together, some unknown conversation taking place.

When she’d mounted her horse, she’d turned to cast a brief glance in his direction. Her gaze dropped over his body, the lust in her eyes making him flush from the knowledge that less than ten minutes prior he’d been buried deep inside of her. He knew he’d need those memories for the long nights ahead.

At least, that’s what he thought, but Ariana had an incredible way of surprising him. 

When she texted him to leave his door unlocked that first night, he did, although he nervously waited to see who might appear first. Thankfully, it was Ariana who slipped naked into bed next to him, their few short hours together spent wrapped up in each other. 

And so it had repeated each night. 

Cullen relished those nights together, even if he rarely saw her during the day.

Days passed in a blur as he inspected the troops, rotating training duties with Karner and Braga. They ran drills and training exercises until the arl’s troops collapsed from exhaustion, begging for rest. He didn’t want to blame them for their lack of preparation, but it was obvious they were lacking. Some days he’d been called to meet with the arl on military matters. It was often only Teagan and his own captain at these meetings. 

On this particular day, Cullen spent the better part of the afternoon in the armory with the captain inspecting each piece of armor and each weapon when a servant sought him out. 

The young elven man cleared his throat from the doorway. “Ser? The arl has requested you join him for tea.”

Cullen turned, surprised by receiving an invitation for something so mundane. “Tea?”

“Yes, ser. This way, if you will?” 

He followed the servant through a wing of the castle he hadn’t yet seen. It was lavishly decorated and unexpectedly warm given the coldness of Firstfall bearing down upon them.

He entered the room that the servant indicated and saw Ariana sitting next to the arl on a couch in the small sitting area. The room looked to be an anteroom of the arl’s private chambers, but seeing her here, with his hand resting lightly on her thigh, made his insides clench. That look in the arl’s eyes was one that he knew too well, the look of one hopelessly and irrefutably infatuated, believing himself in love. That was the face that he imagined he’d made for Solona and that he hoped he didn’t make, at least not for the world to see, for Ariana Trevelyan.

The pale grey of her dress highlighted her eyes. The same eyes that stared at him now, eyebrows lifting in a question. He didn’t know what she was trying to tell him. 

Arl Teagan chose that moment to speak. “Ahh, Commander, here you are. Yes, yes come in.” He gestured to a chair across from them. 

A tray of tea sat one on a table in the middle and Ariana shifted herself away from the arl and slid forward to the tea tray.

“Sugar?” She asked him, lifting the bowl of sugar cubes in his direction.

“One, thanks.” Her eyes were on him, wide and insistent, as she picked up a spoon of sugar and dumped it in a cup. If only he knew why…

“How have you found your stay in Redcliffe?” The arl asked him, smiling at Ariana as she passed him the first cup of tea. She hadn’t even asked whether he liked it with sugar, the answer apparently already known to her.

“Busy, Your Grace. I’ve been working with Captain Barrett on the full assessment of your troops. I’ll have the written report to—”

The arl waved his hand to interrupt. “Not with the troops. Blanche and Wilma?”

Cullen’s face transformed into a face of confusion. “Who?” 

“Blanche and Wilma. The two ladies that…” The arl trailed off, a confused look on his face. Ariana’s eyes were even wider than they had been previously as she reached out to hand him his cup.

“Ahh, yes… _those_ ladies…” He looked at Ariana for signs of what she was trying to tell him to say. She shook her head at him and he was even more confused on where she was trying to guide him. He had no idea what had become of the two women, not having seen them since he left them sitting at the table that first night.

“I had heard… well, no matter,” the arl continued, the two women they’d been discussing forgotten. “Now, I am willing to commit my support to the Inquisition, but I have conditions.” Cullen nodded before lifting the cup of hot tea to his lips, taking a small sip. “As I am certain you are well aware, I have the number of troops necessary, but they will need training.” 

Cullen nodded in agreement with the statement. “Karner and Braga are our best. The two of them will be at your disposal until they are required back at Skyhold. That should not be for several months.” 

“And supplies.” 

Another nod of the head as the two men held each other’s gaze evenly. “Have Barrett let me know what you need and we’ll ensure it arrives.”

“It’s agreed then," Teagan told him, holding his hand out to shake Cullen’s. 

Cullen gave him a firm shake, but before the arl had even dropped his hand, the man turned to face Ariana, a smile on his lips, his fingers intertwining with hers. Cullen looked down into his cup before he did something drastic. Like punch an arl. Now that he’d had more of Ariana Trevelyan, he didn’t know if he could be comfortable with another man looking at her like that. 

“Bann Trevelyan tells me that you need to depart at first light.”

He glanced up to look at at Ariana, the insistence in her eyes now making more sense. 

“I’ve received a message from my sister, we’re needed back at Skyhold as soon as possible. As you know, we’re interested in visiting those who have resettled in the Hinterlands, so we’ll need to depart at once.” She turned back to the arl, clasping his hand in both of her own. “We are so grateful for your hospitality. I wish… well, we do have to go.”

The arl lifted one of Ariana’s hands and kissed the back of her hand. Ariana gave him a warm smile. “Consider my request.”

Cullen’s heart dropped in his chest at the arl’s last statement. He had wondered whether or not it was a possibility that Ariana had been sent here as part of the offering, but he had hoped for better from the others.

“You know I shall. But…” She gave him a look of disappointment. Either she was a good actress or she truly was disappointed. “This is not a question I can answer on my own.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll make the formal request, but I do hope that it’s not undesired.”

“Teagan…” she grasped his hands in her own and looked deeply in his eyes. He smiled at her as she lifted a hand to his chest to play along it lightly. It was absolutely an inopportune time for Cullen to be reacting to her as strongly as he was, but he could almost feel the feather light touches of her fingers as if she danced them along his own chest.

Maker save him.

Cullen cleared his throat. “Do you need me for anything else?” He asked, ready to bolt from the room.

“Not right now. Thank you for your assistance.” The arl released Ariana’s hands as he stood, reaching out to give Cullen another firm handshake.

Ariana did not stand. She barely bothered to look at him as she gave him a curt dismissal, “We’ll leave at first light, Commander. Please ensure everything is ready for the journey.”

***

She could see the condensation coming from the vehicle’s exhaust as she rushed down the stairs, frenzied in her tardiness. Teagan cornered her before she left, begging her to accept his proposal to marry her, but she held firm that it wasn’t her decision.

It was, but she wasn’t ready to tie herself to a man more than double her age. Even if, by all accounts, he was willing to give her exactly what she wanted. He would allow her to remain in the Free Marches. She would be expected to provide an heir, of course, but beyond that she would be free to run her affairs as she wished. Her mother would have been so proud to know her daughter had been offered an arldom.

But as she rushed down the stairs to the fair-haired man standing next to the SUV, his entire body lighting up as she reached him, she knew that there was more for the two of them to explore. A smile curved on her lips as she thought about their travel back to Skyhold.

Cullen pulled open the passenger door, closing it behind her once she’d settled into her seat. They rode in silence until well beyond the reach of Redcliffe, when Ariana stole a glance at the man driving beside her. His face was peaceful and he appeared to be deep in thought. She needed to speak with him and couldn’t wait a moment more.

“We need to talk,” she said. Cullen cleared his throat and looked away from her as he shifted in his seat. His hand crept up to rub the back of his neck as she continued, “About what happened, is happening, keeps happening. Whatever _this_ is.”

“All right.” His eyes stayed focus on the road ahead, but she could tell he was watching her from the corner of his eye. She found herself enchanted by the way the gold of his eyes shimmered in the morning sunlight. 

“I am attracted to you. And it seems that you are attracted to me as well.” 

He softly chuckled and she felt something inside flip at the sound, “I am.”

“But,” she continued and his eyes immediately darkened, the light in them out as he braced himself for her next words. “We have no future.”

“How can you possibly—”

“As Bann of Southwatch, I will have to marry within the nobility.” He frowned as she spoke, glancing at her before scratching at the back of his neck again. At his silence, Ariana continued, “I don't say that to discourage anything between us, but rather so you know what to expect. But there is no reason we can’t… enjoy each other’s company for now.”

After a long silence, her thoughts began to race as she considered all of the options. She may have made the return to Skyhold one of the most awkward situations she’d ever put herself in if he rejected her. On the other hand, if he accepted what she was offering... 

He glanced at her out of the side of his eyes and opened his mouth, before closing it again. She bit her lower lip to keep herself from speaking. He finally said, “I don't know how I feel about that.”

Ariana felt her stomach drop. “Oh.”

Cullen cast a quick glance towards her. “It's not that I don't want to... ah, _enjoy_, was it? But that changes things.” 

“It doesn't have to.”

“Maybe not for you, but it does for me,” he sighed.

As they lapsed into silence, Ariana considered how she could convince him otherwise. “Why?”

“It means we'd be...” Cullen cleared his throat. “Let's call it friends with benefits.”

“And?”

“_And_ if that's what it is, then I have a few requests.”

Requests? Interesting. “What are they?”

“We keep it quiet. I don’t need the rumors distracting the troops, nor would those rumors benefit you. And I have reason to believe your sister won’t be pleased.” 

“Agreed. Especially on Evelyn.” 

He lifted his eyebrows. “Did she say something?” 

“Yes.”

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter. If we keep it a secret, she won’t find out.”

Cullen’s nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. He took a deep breath before he continued, “All right. And I’d also prefer you not have relations with other men while you share my bed.”

“Done. I’d prefer you not either.”

Cullen chuckled, “That won’t be a problem.”

“Other _women_,” she amended, shooting him a glare. 

A smile tugged at the edge of his mouth as he attempted to keep a straight face. “Very well.” 

He reached over and grasped one of her hands, bringing it toward his lips and placing a light kiss on her fingertips. Before releasing it, he flipped her hand over and gave her a palm a long, teasing kiss. The sensation shot through her body, heating her core. 

“Anything you’d like to add?” He murmured into her palm, his tongue darting out to rub small circles in the sensitive part. 

She waited until he released her hand to speak. “Don’t fall in love with me.”

He lifted an eyebrow, sending another teasing look her way. “What makes you think I will?” 

It was a good question. Was it him she was worried about falling in love... Or herself? “We can’t be together, not really, so let’s not complicate it.”

They continued the drive in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. After several minutes, Ariana spoke again, “You should know Teagan asked me to marry him.”

Cullen’s lips tightened. “And?”

“And what?”

“What did you tell him?”

“That he can formally request my hand from the Inquisition,” she chuckled. “He’ll have to ask the queen for permission before he does that. Ferelden doesn’t let their nobles off so easily.” 

Cullen let out a breath. “Is there anything else?”

“What do you mean?” 

“I didn’t see you last night. Anything else the Inquisition needs to know?”

“The Inquisition or you?” He gave her a skeptical look, but didn’t respond. She continued, “Then, as you are already aware, the arl offered his support to the Inquisition. He was willing to do so at the offer of training and supplies for his soldiers.”

“And that’s all?”

She gave him a long, hard look. “What are you asking?” He shook his head, his lips pressed together in a firm line, and refused to answer. “Are you asking if I slept with him?”

He shot a glance in her direction, a frown appearing on his face. "Do I need to?"

She tossed her hair, seething at the implication, especially since they had already agreed not to sleep with other people. “Is that really what you think of me?” 

Cullen frowned more deeply, she could see it out of the side of her eye, but she refused to look at him. He sighed, “I don’t— Maker, no, I don't, but he looked… well, let’s say I can relate.”

She looked over at him. “I don't follow.” 

“The look on his face.”

“What about it?”

“Like he knows what he's missing.”

Ariana's head snapped back at the implication. “Are you serious? After the conversation we had just now?”

“Did you?”

“Did I _what_?” She stared at him as he pressed his lips together and refused to answer. She knew what he was asking but she wanted him to say it. To accuse her out loud. If he wouldn't, then she would. “Fine. Do you want to know if I sucked him off? If I fucked him—”

“Ariana!” His knuckles were white from his tight grip on the steering wheel.

“Tell me what you want to know!” 

“All of it! Maker,” he cursed.

“This is the only time I will say this, so listen carefully. I have not been with another man since you. I already said I would not do that.” He let out a long breath through his nose. Ariana watched him work his jaw before continuing, “Perhaps I should be asking you about those two whores Teagan got you.”

“Me?” Surprise crossed his face.

“You were looking rather rumpled that first morning when you got to my room.”

“I hadn’t slept well.” She did not respond. She knew he was being honest with her, but wanted him to know what it felt like to be doubted. Silence stretched between them, before he finally said, “The thought of you with him tormented me. I couldn't... Forgive me.” 

She sighed. She didn't want to argue with him. Not when they finally had the opportunity to explore what was going on between them. 

She had the uncomfortable feeling of _liking_ his jealousy. It wasn't something she’d experienced before. Most men had been fine enough with whatever arrangement she offered them. Cullen was the only one who'd come back with requests of his own. Secrecy was standard, but exclusivity was a new addition. It had never been practical before. But she was glad he'd asked for it, because now that she'd had him, she would not willingly share him with anyone else.

Cullen Rutherford belonged in her bed and hers alone.


	18. Chapter 18

Josephine’s itinerary for their return journey kept them busy visiting a number of resettled refugees along the road toward Skyhold. The day had been non-stop since they'd left Redcliffe, so Ariana was relieved when Cullen finally pulled up at a lakeside resort late afternoon and let her know they were done for the day.

Ariana had arranged an upgrade for herself to a lakeside guesthouse, instead of the standard room that the Inquisition booked. She made plans to meet Cullen for dinner before each headed off to their separate space.

When she entered her lakeside guesthouse, the view took her breath away. A full wall of windows spanned the entire guest house giving her unmatched views of the lake, the water glittering under the warm light of the afternoon sun. There was a terrace on the other side of the windows, with a small infinity pool, a seating area around a fire pit, and a dining area.

Now that she’d seen the guesthouse, Ariana wasn’t sure she wanted to leave for dinner. It would be far more entertaining to have dinner here, in a private space, than to have to publicly engage in social niceties when all she’d be able to think about was getting Cullen naked and in her bed.

A quick text to Cullen confirmed the change of plans. The weather had been fairly mild for the first week of Haring, so she arranged for dinner to be on the terrace. 

Ariana paced the hallway while she waited for him to arrive, double checking her appearance in the entryway mirror. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. Maker knew they’d spent enough time naked together. And enough time not naked. What was it about tonight that had butterflies fluttering in her chest? 

The knock on the door made her jump. She rushed to open it, breath catching at the sight of him standing in front of her looking gorgeous in a button-down shirt and blazer. Ariana definitely had some ideas for unbuttoning it later.

“Hello,” she said a bit breathlessly.

“Hi.” 

“Come in.” She stepped back, opening the door wide for him. “I thought we might have dinner on the terrace. It’s a lovely evening.”

The door fell shut behind him as he stepped closer toward her, one hand sliding around her waist to pull her toward him. Ariana felt heat rising on her cheeks at the way he was looking at her and she held her breath as he brushed his lips over hers. He pulled away from her, casting an appreciative look down her body. “You are stunning.” 

Now she really was blushing. Something about the way he was looking at her that made her want to skip dinner. Instead, she slipped out of his grasp and headed toward the terrace. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

“Me too,” he told her as he reached for her again. “But not for food.”

Ariana gave him a teasing look over her shoulder. “Patience.”

Their meal was simple and quick. Ariana mostly picked at her food as they made polite conversation about nothing particularly important. Soon enough, Cullen laid down his cutlery and met her eyes with a still hungry look. “And now that we’ve eaten…” 

“Drinks!” She leapt to her feet and started back inside. He grasped her wrist as she walked by, tugging her toward him. His thumb grazed the lace of her cuff, the light sensation shooting through her body straight between her legs. 

“That’s not what I had in mind,” he growled. Ariana’s breath caught in her chest at the look in his eyes. 

“I know. But I thought it’d be nice to enjoy the fire.” She gestured toward the sitting area next to the roaring fire pit. “Give me a moment to grab the bubbly and I’ll join you.”

She freed her wrist and walked as steadily as she could towards the kitchen. She watched him through the window as he removed his blazer and settled on one of the couches next to the fire. She grabbed the ice bucket and two glass flutes and rejoined him on the terrace. His eyes followed her as she set down the ice bucket and poured them each a glass of sparkling wine. 

Ariana sat down next to him, tucking herself into the arm he lifted around her shoulders as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She lifted her glass toward his. “_Sláinte_.”

“And may you live forever.” His eyes twinkled as he clinked his glass to hers and took a sip. A smile spread across Ariana’s face at his words, the continuation of an old Marcher blessing. This man never ceased to surprise her.

She took a deep breath, before saying, “I’ve been meaning to ask you about something.” 

“What’s that?” He leaned against the back of the couch, his arm lazily draped over her shoulder. 

Ariana turned her face up toward his. “The other day, when talking about that first night that we… well, you said you ‘didn’t even know if,’ but you didn’t finish the thought. What did you not know?” 

He took a slow sip of sparkling wine as her question hung there. 

“Didn’t know what, Cullen?” She prompted.

He sighed, slightly shifting his body so he was facing her. “Whether or not it happened.”

Her head snapped back. He didn’t even know if it had happened? That was not what she was expecting him to say. “Like a dream?”

“Not a dream, no.”

“So it wasn’t a dream, but it wasn’t real, then what did you think it was?”

He sighed again, removing his arm from her shoulder as he fidgeted with his glass. “Do you remember what I told you about how Templars’ power comes from the use of lyrium? Well, lyrium heightens our connection to the Fade and that connection makes us more susceptible to possession.”

“Possession?” She tried to remember what she knew about possession, although most of it was from mages. “You mean you thought I was a demon?”

He downed the remainder of his drink and set the glass aside. “Well…”

“Are you blushing?”

“The possibility crossed my mind, yes. Especially when there was no sign of you the next morning.”

“But why would you think that?” His hand found its way to the back of his neck and he looked away. Her mind was whirling with what he wasn’t telling her. Her eyes widened at the realization. “They’ve done that before.”

He cleared his throat, then swallowed. Her eyes travelled over his flushed face and neck and a smile quirked on the side of her mouth. She set her glass down.

“Tell me more about what they did.” She lifted one leg over him, her dress hiking up toward her hips as she straddled him. 

“Ariana!” 

She wasn’t sure whether the exclamation was from her question or her actions, but she didn’t care. She’d felt how hard he already was and her hips pressed against him, heat pooling between her legs. His hands grasped her hip in an attempt to still her as she leaned toward him, her lips brushing his ear and his hands found their way into his slightly wavy hair, “I want to know all the dirty things the commander wants to do with me.”

He groaned and involuntarily thrust against her, his hands lifting from her hips to her waist, and then further to cup her breasts. Her nipples were peaked against the soft fabric of her dress and when he squeezed them, she arched into him, her head falling back.

His lips were on her neck, kissing the exposed skin there. “Let me show you,” he murmured into her neck as his hands continued to explore. 

“Later.” She pressed him away from her, back against the couch before she unbuttoned his shirt, her lips following her hands as she worked her way down his chest. She kneeled between his legs, his unbuttoned shirt spread wide as her hands explored his chest while her lips teased along his waist. “I haven’t gotten my dessert yet,” she told him as she started to unbuckle his belt. 

He grabbed her wrists. "No, don't."

She froze and looked up at him. His eyes were darkened, but there was… something in them. Something akin to panic.

“Okay.” She sat back and watched him. Watched the way his throat bobbed as he took a steadying breath and swallowed. It was the second time he’d stopped her from going down on him and she wondered why. 

After several breaths, the look disappeared from his eyes. “Stand up.”

She rose to her feet.

“Take your dress off.” 

She reached her hands behind her, locating the zipper and sliding it down, ever so slowly. The strapless dress fell away, leaving her in a long-sleeved lace crop top and matching lace thong.

“Come here.” He leaned forward on the couch, his hands moving to her waist as she stepped closer, pulling her toward him. Her tongue snaked across her lips as he looked up at her, his face even with her chest. She sucked in a breath as he ran his hands up along her sides and ran his tongue along the hollow between her breasts. The feel of his tongue through the lace fabric sent shudders through her. 

“Mmm,” he said, pulling back to study the top, his fingers running along the edge of the lace beneath her breasts. “I like this.” 

He watched her as he lifted his hands to caress her breasts, before moving to graze his teeth along one of her nipples. Ariana’s knees buckled and he caught her around the waist as he continued to teasing the hard peak in front of him.

Pleasure ricocheted through her body, she tightened her legs together. Her groan was both breathy and breathless. “Cullen.”

His eyes were dark when he looked up at her. “Yes, say my name.”

“Oh Maker, Cullen,” she moaned as he turned his attention toward the other nipple, one hand moving upward to take the place where his lips had been. She wrapped one hand around the back of his head, tangled in his hair as she pressed her chest closer toward his mouth. Her mind was screaming for more. 

_More_.

He chuckled against her breast, the vibrations sending more heat between her legs. She was so turned on she was beginning to ache, needing to feel him inside of her. Ariana lost track of time as he continued to lavish attention her breasts with his tongue, switching his focus between the two, his hand working the other.

When he finally pulled away, Ariana struggled to stand on her own, eliciting a dark chuckle from Cullen. He trailed his fingers down the plane of her stomach, dropping between her legs. Ariana was trembling, but she couldn’t stop her body from doing it even if she’d wanted to.

He pulled at her thong. “Take this off.” 

Ariana held his gaze as she hooked her thumbs and slid it down along her legs. She wobbled slightly as she slipped the garment down over her leg, but Cullen leaned back to watch her, a devilish smile on his face.

He raked his gaze over her body and she felt herself flush under the heat of his gaze. When his eyes made it back up to meet hers, they were dark, the golden flecks dancing in the firelight. It was the most intense look she’d ever seen from him and the thrill of knowing that it was all for her was such a turn on.

“These, too.” He gestured at his trousers. Her eyes hovered on his erection proudly tenting in his slacks. She kneeled down, pulling off his shoes before finally finishing what she'd started earlier. 

Lowering his zipper, she took his hard cock in one hand. She stroked him once and, since he didn't stop her, did it again. When she glanced up, his eyes were closed and his head dropped back. At her next stroke, he gently rocked into her hand. She took that as encouragement and flicked her tongue out to lick the tip of his cock.

“Stop.” His hands were now at her shoulders, pushing her away. Ariana sat back on her heels, biting back her disappointment. She wanted to know how he tasted, but he always stopped her.

He slid the trousers over his hips and down to the ground, kicking them to the side.

“Come here,” he told her, pulling her toward him as he urged her to turn around.

She turned, feeling his hand on her hips as he guided her down to his lap, his hands pulling her knees apart to spread her legs wide. He explored her body as she leaned back against him, her back arched from the pleasure of his touch. He slipped a hand down and stroked his finger between her folds, slicking her wetness along them. 

“Already so wet for me,” he murmured, nipping at her ear as he slid one finger inside of her. 

Her muscles clamped around his finger as her hips bucked involuntarily, needing more. “Maker!”

“Cullen,” he said, pressing kisses down her exposed neck, alternating between light nips and kisses as he continued to slide his finger in and out of her. “Say _my_ name when I’m touching you.”

“Cullen,” she cried as he added a second finger and moved his thumb to rub her clit. She squeezed her eyes closed, feeling his touch, his arm wrapped around her waist holding her close and the other hand giving her the most glorious touch that she’d ever experienced. 

Her inner muscles clamped harder around his fingers as she began to grind against his hand, needing to feel more of the pressure he was focusing on her clit, the pleasure shooting through her body. She felt the tension rising as she rode his hand, “I— I’m going to—”

“Not yet.”

He slid his fingers out from inside of her. Ariana let out a frustrated groan and started to squeeze her thighs together, but his hands held her thighs firmly apart. She dropped her head back and let out a frustrated whimper as she felt the tension inside of her slipping away.

When she finally stopped squirming, he smoothed her hair back away from from her ear and murmured into it, his voice husky, “You take commands well, don’t you, Bann Trevelyan?”

She shuddered as his voice slid over her body, the use of her title sounding particularly erotic in the current situation. 

He chuckled again in her ear as she nodded. “I thought so.”

He shifted her on top of him, guiding his erection between her legs, before sliding inside of her. A guttural sound escaped his lips when he was fully sheathed in her, a matching gasp slipping out of her own lips.

“When you come, it’ll be with me inside you,” he told her, shifting beneath her and pushing her upper body away from him.

“Yes,” she breathed, quickly setting a rhythm as she ground on top of him, his hands running along her back, down her backside, as he watched her move on top of him. She couldn’t see his face, but every so often she could feel the way his grip tightened or the way he hardened even more inside of her.

As his breaths grew shorter and his groans grew louder behind her, he pulled her back toward him and slid his hand down to her clit, rubbing their combined wetness over it as he pushed her closer to completion. She was so close, if she could only—

“Harder,” he grunted as she bounced on top of him. Her hands were on his thighs, trying to help her get purchase. Her body had tightened and she focused on that the pleasure that had gathered between her legs, wanting to feel herself come with him inside her. She kept chasing that feeling of him rubbing inside her, she could feel it, she was so close.

“Cullen,” she begged, unable to hold on any longer, “Please.” 

“Come.”

At that single word, her world exploded into a million little pieces as the pleasure ricocheted through her. His name was a moan on her lips as she clenched around him, feeling the hardness of his cock sliding in and out of her. 

He thrust into her several last times as he reached his own release inside of her with a curse on his lips. She collapsed back against his chest, her head thrown back against his shoulder, feeling his heart beating against her back as they came down together. 

When their breathing finally slowed and she was more aware of the world around them, of the coolness of the winter night and the way her skin pebbled in the cold, he pressed his lips to her shoulder. 

“Maker's breath,” he murmured, his lips running along the neckline of her lace top. “That was incredible.”

Ariana didn’t have the breath left to respond. Cullen scooped her up in his arms and carried her inside.

***

The hot steam of the shower enveloped him as Cullen leaned his forehead against the cool tile wall. The hot water washed over him as he willed his body to wake up. The amount of sleep he’d gotten last night could be summed up as “zero.” It was the first time she hadn’t needed to sneak in and out in the middle of the night. The opportunity to indulge himself in her all night long had been too tempting to resist, especially when Ariana had been ravenous for him as well.

Thank the Maker, she had a kitchen. There had to be coffee supplies in this guesthouse somewhere.

Cullen stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist as he padded out of the bathroom. The sun hadn’t yet risen and the room was bathed in an almost unearthly blue light.

He glanced at the bed where Ariana still lay tangled in the sheets. A sense of lightness came over him as he watched her sleep. She was extraordinary. Cullen wasn’t sure how it had happened, but he couldn’t believe that she was his, no matter how temporary this arrangement would prove to be.

Coffee could wait. He crawled into bed next to her, pulling her closer as he breathed in the scent of her. She stretched, arching her back as she pressed her ass into his crotch. One minute she’d been fast asleep and the next her hand was reaching behind her to take him in her hand.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

“It _is_ a good morning,” she mumbled, voice laced with sleep.

“Maker, Ariana,” he groaned into her hair as she worked her hand along his hardening length, “What are you doing to me?”

She lifted her leg back over him, positioning his erection at the entrance to her wet heat. She moaned, mumbling something in a language he didn't understand, but he got the hint and took her lead.

The sun had risen well above the horizon line when he finally made it to the kitchen to start the coffee. He was standing at the counter, blankly staring at the lake rippling outside the window when she entered and poured herself a cup. “Look alive, Commander,” she teased, taking her first sip. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her toward him. “Not if I have anything to do about it.” He nipped at her ear playfully before giving her a slow kiss. 

Her grey eyes were dancing as she ran her free hand through his hair, the other taking another sip from her mug. “We should get on the road, we have a lot of ground to cover today. Josephine asked me to take some publicity photos.” 

Cullen sighed. Duty called.

***

The morning they were due back at Skyhold dawned dark and cold. Ariana’s arms were wrapped around him as the coffee brewed. The sun hadn’t yet begun to rise, but the first light of morning was peeking over the horizon.

“Do we have to return today?” He asked, tangling his fingers in her hair as he kissed her again and again. “Could we add some publicity locations or refugees to visit or something?”

“Yes, please,” she breathed between kisses.

His phone chirped from the bedroom. He spared the door a brief glance, but Ariana tightened her arms around his waist and snuggled into his bare chest. He played with the tie on her robe as he thought about untying it and enjoying her right in the kitchen. 

Whomever was calling could wait.

He untied her robe as he kissed his way down her neck, pushing the fabric away. He lifted her onto the counter and was working his mouth lower when Ariana’s phone began buzzing on the countertop next to her.

“Oh for Andraste’s sake,” she grumbled as she reached over to silence her phone. When she looked at the screen, her eyes widened and shot toward his. 

She twisted away from him and slid off the countertop, clutching the robe at her neck. She put some distance between them before she slid her finger across the screen to take the call. Instead of lifting it to her ear, she held the device up in front of her face. “Good morning, Leliana.”

Cullen’s eyebrows shot up at the early morning call from their spymaster… and a video call at that.

“Bann Trevelyan! Good morning. I do apologize for the early call.”

Ariana gave a tight smile. “How can I help you?”

“What time do you plan to leave today?”

“By seven-thirty. Why do you ask?”

Leliana paused. The pause was too long to be a coincidence. He could sense Ariana watching him out of the side of her eyes, not daring to look at him.

“You do plan to return to Skyhold today, yes?” Leliana asked instead of answering the question.

“That is the plan,” Ariana carefully answered.

He couldn’t see the spymaster, but he knew the face of careful contemplation she would be making right now as another long pause made its way across the airwaves. “Arl Teagan is on his way to Denerim today. It would be advisable for you to return to Skyhold at once.”

Ariana gave a tight smile. “As I said, that is the plan.”

“I tried giving the commander a call, do you know where he is?” 

As soon as Cullen heard his name, he crept toward the bedroom to retrieve his phone. 

“I’ve no knowledge of the commander’s morning routine,” Ariana said. 

He unlocked his phone and pressed the button to redial the missed call.

“Oh, there he is. Excuse me. I’ll see you soon, Bann.” 

Leliana appeared on the screen of his phone. “Commander, good morning!”

“Nightingale.” He nodded at the screen. “This is early even for you. What can be so important at this hour?”

“Arl Teagan is departing for Denerim within the hour. You need to get the bann back to Skyhold at once.”

He could sense Ariana coming toward the bedroom. He turned, angling the phone camera to keep a wall behind him. 

Leliana cleared her throat before sweetly inquiring, “Where is your shirt?”

“It’s six-thirty.”

“And?”

“Is there a point to this line of questioning?”

Leliana’s eyebrows shot up. “A bit touchy this morning, are we? Oh, I see. Please tell her I say hello.”

Cullen sucked in a slow breath at her words. Sometimes she was too observant. He and Ariana would have to be careful once they got back to Skyhold. “Why does the bann need to be back at Skyhold?”

“Precaution. I’ve already spoken with her so this shouldn’t come as a surprise when you meet up with her.” 

“Noted. Goodbye.”

“Wait.” Cullen’s finger hovered above the disconnect button, but he paused. “It’s not only because of the arl. The Inquisitor has returned from the Plains and… Well, she could use her sister.”

Out of the side of his eye, Ariana stiffened. He fought the urge to glance in her direction. Leliana was too sharp for that. “Understood. We’ll see you this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Commander.” Leliana’s face disappeared from the screen as she disconnected the call. When he looked up, Ariana was already in the bathroom, throwing her toiletries into a bag. 

“We’re leaving,” she told him as she exited into the bedroom, grabbing the clothing they’d left strewn about the room the previous night. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready.”

“Ariana, she didn’t—”

She rounded on him, shaking a dress in his direction as she shouted, “My sister needs me. We are leaving now.”

He walked toward her, gently grasping her elbows and waiting until she looked at him. “Take a deep breath,” he said. 

She gave him a skeptical look, but did as he asked. He watched her face as she closed her eyes, her long lashes brushing again her cheek. She took a long, slow breath in and then pushed it back out equally as slow. When she opened her eyes, she looked calmer. Whether or not she felt calmer remained to be seen.

“Okay, now get dressed. We’ll leave for Skyhold as soon as you’re ready.” 

“Really?”

“Of course. I’ll give Josephine a call and let her know we’re cancelling whatever we had planned today.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and he wrapped his around her shoulders in a comfortable hug. “Ten minutes?”

“I’ll be ready.”

***

The situation at Skyhold wasn’t quite as dire as Leliana had led them to believe, but it wasn’t good. Evelyn was distraught over Solas’s departure from the Exalted Plains and no one, not even Leliana, knew where he’d gone.

Ariana found her sister wrapped in a blanket in front of her fireplace. Her white hair was hanging loosely around her shoulders, much longer than the last time she’d seen it down. 

She hesitated at the top of the stairs. “Eve?” 

Evelyn turned, focusing her intense green eyes on her. When she spoke, her voice was dull. “You’re back.”

Ariana sat down next to her sister, wrapping her arms around her. “What happened?”

Evelyn didn’t respond, instead turning back to stare at the fire, tightening her fingers clutching at the blanket. Haring was bitterly cold in the Frostbacks and the ancient stone fortress was not up to modern standards of insulation. 

Ariana laid her head down on her sister’s shoulder.

It surprised her that her sister had been so distraught by the elven man’s disappearance. She knew the two of them were close, but now she considered that she’d missed the warning signs of there being something more. At least on her sister’s part. Ariana had been so wrapped in her own predicament, she’d not been there for her sister.

Questions swarmed through her head. The urge to ask questions kept pressing at her, but she didn’t want to push too hard and too fast. It hadn’t been more than five months since they’d reunited and, despite all that had happened, she knew her sister still didn’t trust her. Why should she? Ariana was the sister that had left her in that Circle.

So they sat in silence, watching the logs reduce to ash as the sun sank lower in the sky.

A knock sounded on the door and footsteps sounded up the stairs. “Inquisitor. My lady. The Nightingale has requested your attendance at the war council. They’ve already convened,” an unfamiliar voice said.

Ariana lifted her head and turned toward the scout. “We’ll be there shortly, thank you.” 

The scout nodded his head and disappeared back down the stairs.

As Ariana made a move to stand, Evelyn laid her hand on Ariana’s arm. “Thank you for not asking.” Ariana gave her a sad smile, wishing her sister trusted her enough to share. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, it’s only… when I’m ready, we’ll talk.”

“Whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” Evelyn said. “Before we go down there… I understand you had a productive visit to Redcliffe?”

“The commander did,” Ariana sighed, “And the arl asked me to marry him.”

“You don’t seem pleased by that.” Evelyn peered at her.

“He’s a kind man. There’s no reason I shouldn’t be, but…” Ariana trailed off, her thoughts on the warm amber eyes of the commander.

“But there’s someone else.” Ariana snapped her eyes to her sister’s face. She couldn’t possibly know, could she? Evelyn gave her a small smile. “Have you told him about the arl's proposal?”

Ariana was beginning to panic about the direction of this conversation. No one was supposed to know and… She didn’t want to lie to her sister. That would make this all worse. “He’s… aware.”

“And what does he think?”

“He’s not... pleased.”

“I’d imagine not. Especially after those rumors that you were to be engaged to him. I know you said he’s faking it, but he does seem to care for you a great deal.”

_Jean-Luc_.

Relief flooded through her at the realization that it was only Jean-Luc that her sister was thinking of. The phrase “only Jean-Luc” was probably a severe underestimation of the man, but right now, she was more than happy that her sister wasn’t talking about Cullen. “They _were_ only rumors. Jean-Luc wouldn't... Well, the Jean-Luc I know wouldn't commit to any one person.”

Evelyn stood, stretching her stiff muscles. “Then let’s find out what Josephine and the others have to say about all this.”

The sisters walked together down the stairs and into the war room. Ariana could feel Cullen’s eyes on her as the two women entered. They hadn’t spoken the entire drive back to Skyhold, since Ariana remained silent as she worried about her sister.

When they’d arrived, Ariana had slid out of the car and run straight to her sister’s room. They’d never discussed what would happen next. If there even would be anything next. The conversation the first day certainly implied there would be, even after she’d told him they had no future, but they hadn’t talked about what that meant. Practically and logistically how they would manage being "friends with benefits" here at Skyhold. Even worse, she herself had forgotten that's all they were supposed to be each night she spent in his arms. Ariana shouldn’t need to be reminded of the reality of the world, but she forgot herself around him.

She channeled as much dispassion as she could before she glanced over at him. He was staring at Josephine as she talked. Although the arl's proposal was still informal, Josephine thought it likely Queen Anora would grant Teagan’s request in order to strengthen Ferelden’s relationship with the Free Marches.

“It would unite a Fereldan arl with one of the most powerful houses in the Free Marches. She would be foolish not to agree.”

“That’s not what my little birdies tell me,” Leliana said in a sing-song voice, a smile playing at her lips.

Everyone’s eyes snapped over to where Leliana stood in the shadows. Evelyn asked, “What have you heard?”

“Rumor has it Lady Isolde personally petitioned the queen to deny Teagan’s request.”

“Isolde…?” Ariana reached back in her memory from the noble lineages her mother forced her to memorize as a child. “Eamon’s widow?”

“That’s the one.” Leliana nodded at Ariana and continued, “There were always rumors their child was Teagan’s, even before the Blight. It seems there may have been some merit to those rumors.”

“So if Anora has _not_ agreed to his request...”

“Then he won’t be formally proposing to our lovely bann.”

For the second time in the past half hour, Ariana felt relief flooding through her. This time at the knowledge she wouldn’t have to deal with a proposal from a man more than twice her age. She felt Cullen watching her, but she refused to meet his eyes.

“That is quite agreeable,” Josephine said as she tapped away on her tablet. “There was some question as to whether or not a proposal from Ferelden would start a war with Orlais. Although, the Orlesians have enough to worry about right now.”

Cullen lifted his eyebrows at Josephine. “A war?”

“Over me?” Ariana added in disbelief.

Leliana and Josephine exchanged a look, before Josephine said, “Teagan is one of the highest ranking nobles in Ferelden.” 

“What about the teyrns? Wouldn’t they stop it?”

“Cousland has all but disappeared from international politics and Anora has not granted Gwaren to anyone,” Josephine shrugged. “And, as I’m sure you know, Bechalet certainly wields the most power on the Orlesian side.” 

“But Jean-Luc hasn’t—” Ariana cut off at the pained look that crossed Josephine’s face. “Oh no, he did, didn’t he?”

“Did what?” Cullen broke in.

“The duke inquired about—”

“Me.” Ariana closed her eyes, not wanting to see Cullen’s reaction. When she’d suggested reconnecting with Jean-Luc for intelligence purposes, she had never expected this. The man she remembered had been young and carefree, not wanting any attachment that would tie him down. But since they’d reconnected, he’d been relentless in pursuing her.

She let out a breath as she looked at Josephine. “Formal or informal?” 

“Informal, for now.”

“Josephine, I need a way out of this.”

“Already working on it. Given the potential consequences, we need to be careful. _You_ need to be careful. At least until this dies down.”

“Those ‘potential consequences’ being a war?” Cullen asked.

“Yes, Commander, do try to keep up,” Leliana teased.

“I am, but that doesn’t make sense. Nations don’t go to war over a woman.”

“Do they not?”

“No!”

“Wars have been waged over less.”

“But Bann Trevelyan—”

“It might not even be about _her_,” Josephine interrupted. “Orlais has wanted Ferelden back since they day they won their independence.”

“Can we please refocus?” Evelyn raised her voice over the others. “What does that mean for us?”

Leliana whispered something to Cullen and his brow furrowed in concern. Josephine spared them a glance, before she addressed Evelyn. “The arl already pledged his support to the Inquisition, we don’t know what he’ll want in return now that the bann is not... involved.”

Evelyn chewed on her lower lip as she considered the turn of events. “Could we lose that support?”

“Unlikely with Karner and Braga training his men.”

“Let’s revisit that at the end,” Leliana interrupted, “Inquisitor, I’ve received word we’ve a camp above the village of Sahrnia, as requested. You can depart for the Emprise at any time.”

Ariana cleared her throat, “If I’m no longer needed, then perhaps I should leave.”

“Of course, Bann. Have a good evening.”

She gave each of the advisors a smile, noting the way Leliana was inspecting Cullen as he stared at the map on the table between them. They hadn’t made eye contact the entire time she’d been in the war room. No wonder Leliana was curious.

“Oh, Josie, I’ll send you the photos you requested. The commander is quite a good photographer. I think you’ll be impressed.” 

Cullen lifted his eyes to hers for a brief moment before turning toward Josephine. “Bann Trevelyan is too kind, you’ll probably need to delete the entire lot of them.”

Josephine laughed. “I’m sure they’re fine, thank you both for doing that.”

“I should be thanking you,” Ariana smiled. “I don’t think I could have handled that helicopter over the mountains again.”

Cullen's face broke into a wide grin. “No, you really couldn’t.” 

At the rest of the group’s curious faces, Ariana told them a dramatized version of their helicopter ride of Redcliffe. The entire group doubled over in laughter at her story and Cullen’s anecdotes about her reaction. When she finally made her way out of the war room sometime later she hoped that it had been enough to keep Leliana’s curiosity at bay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Sláinte_ \- (Gaeilge) Cheers (lit. health)


	19. Chapter 19

A party was the last place he wanted to be tonight, even though it was the grand opening of the Herald's Rest, which had finally been completed while they'd been away. It had been more than a week since he’d returned from Redcliffe, but the amount of work that had piled up during his absence was astounding, even with Rylen overseeing the daily operations.

It had also been more than a week since he’d seen Ariana. He’d caught glimpses of her from across the fortress, but it wasn’t enough. Especially not after the nights he’d spent with her in his arms.

The intelligence that Leliana had given him about the looming conflict between Ferelden and Orlais was alarming. Ariana had found herself in the middle of the potential conflict without even knowing that was the case. She hadn’t asked for the attention, but it was there nonetheless.

As the sun set and the noise level of the recently opened tavern grew, he found himself pacing outside the door. He’d finally convinced himself to go inside when the door flung open. Varric started laughing, “Well, I’ll be! The kid was right.”

Cullen didn’t know what that meant, but with a deep breath, he stepped into the warm light of the tavern. 

Varric motioned for him to follow, the two of them making their way through the crush of people to the bar. Varric climbed onto a stool and slid a mug over. Cullen leaned his back against the bar, looking out across the room.

This tavern was much larger than the one at Haven, with two floors rising up above the main floor. A fire roared in the stone fireplace, around which an area had been cleared and several people were dancing to the bard’s playful tune. 

His eyes quickly found Ariana. She stood with her sister at the far edge of the dance floor, their hands clapping in time with the music and heads occasionally bowing together as they conversed. When she threw her head back and laughed, he felt her joy as if it was his own. Maker’s breath, she was enchanting. He couldn't keep his eyes off her.

The song transitioned into a new one, the tune lively. Pavus swirled in, dragging the Inquisitor with him onto the small dance floor. Rylen stepped forward to fill the empty space next to Ariana. Jealousy surged through him, even though Cullen knew—he _knew_—it was irrational. 

It wasn’t that Rylen had approached her, exactly. He knew the two Marchers were close. It wasn’t that closeness that bothered him... But it was the small smile that played on Ariana’s lips in response to whatever Rylen whispered in her ear. It was the way that Rylen led her onto the dance floor and held her in his arms. It was because Rylen _could_ do that and Cullen couldn't. 

Because Rylen was her friend and Cullen was her secret.

He recognized the music as one of the traditional Marcher tunes, one he’d heard floating through the streets of Kirkwall. Ariana radiated happiness as Rylen rapidly spun her around in time with the music.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?” Cullen dragged his eyes away from Ariana and turned back toward Varric.

“Who?”

His question drew an eye roll from Varric, the dwarven man taking a long swig of his ale before responding. “Curly, you haven’t taken your eyes off her since you got here. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Cullen shrugged, turning to face the bar as he lifted his beer mug toward his lips. It wasn't long before Cullen felt a strong hand on his back. 

“Commander! Glad you could make it.” Blackwall’s burly Ferelden accent interrupted, looking between the two men. “We’ve got a game of Diamondback starting upstairs, if you’d care to join?” 

Varric declined, having more interest in the gossip around him, but Cullen downed the last of his ale and slid the mug across the bar. “Lead the way.”

He followed Blackwall through the throng, around the back to reach the stairs. As they mounted the stairs, Cullen looked down to where Ariana was waltzing with Pavus, her face in a wide smile. There was no reason for him to feel jealous, he knew that she would come to him when she was ready, but he wished he could wrap his arms around her and dance with her, letting everyone know that she was his.

But he didn’t. Instead, he turned and followed the Warden to the table upstairs. The men made a half-hearted attempt at a few rounds of the game before they gave up, instead focusing on drinking ale and trading stories of their various military exploits. 

Cullen mostly listened, but as more and more questions turned toward him, he decided it was a good time to rejoin the festivities downstairs.

He walked down, around the back of the stairs toward the bar. Iron Bull and Evelyn sat at the bar with a line of small drinks in front of them. 

“One… two… three… Shoot!” Evelyn took one of the small glasses and quickly swallowed it, slamming it back onto the bar. She coughed at the liquid, earning a laugh and slap on the back from Iron Bull. 

Turning the corner, he saw Rylen and Ariana had pulled two stools together in front of the fireplace, a nearly empty bottle of whiskey on the hearthstone next to them. They were facing each other, leaning towards one another, as she laughed aloud at a story that Rylen was telling. 

That same, irrational jealousy surged through him. As he stepped forward, Rylen caught sight of him, jumping up at his approach. “Commander!” 

“At ease, Rylen. May I join you?” 

“Of course! Let me find you a seat.” Rylen looked around before he stepped away in search of an empty stool. Cullen sat down on the stool Rylen had recently occupied, his long legs on either side of Ariana’s.

She held up the bottle of whiskey in a silent question and he nodded. “Yes, thank you.” 

She smiled as she reached for an empty cup and poured him several fingers, straight. His fingers brushed her own as he took the glass from her. Cullen took a slow sip of the neat golden liquid, a smug satisfaction settling over him at the way her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“You drink whiskey.” It wasn’t a question. He shrugged in response, and she continued, “Yet another surprise, Commander.” 

Rylen plopped a stool down next to them. “That wasn’t easy. Everyone wants to sit now.”

“Yes, well, dancing does tend to exhaust people.” Ariana gave Rylen one of her dazzling smiles.

Cullen scoffed as he swirled the liquid around in his glass. “From only several hours? Doubtful.”

Ariana narrowed her eyes at him. “How would you know? You don’t dance.”

“That’s not true. You know I can dance.” 

“Really?” Rylen asked. “I’ve never seen you.”

Cullen tilted his head toward Ariana before he responded. “Ask her. She knows how... talented I am.” 

Both Ariana’s eyes and mouth widened in surprise. Rylen cleared his throat, his eyes rapidly flitting between the two of them as he tried to work out what Cullen was saying. Cullen allowed the pause to drag on a few moments longer, before he added, “But the last time I danced, we were attacked by an ancient Tevinter magister, so I beg your pardon for my hesitance to do so again.”

“Looks like we need more whiskey!” Ariana poured the remainder of the whiskey into her glass and handed Rylen the empty bottle. “Will you ask Cabot for the Northern reserve?”

Rylen nodded as he silently took the bottle from her and headed toward the bar, squeezing through the crowd toward it. 

“For fuck’s sake, Cullen.” Ariana lowered her voice after Rylen had disappeared toward the bar. “Are you out of your mind? He has to think that we—” She cut herself off with a sharp shake of her head before she finished the sentence.

“It’s true. We have.” He smirked at her, reveling in the flush that was creeping up her neck as he teased her. “Come by tonight.”

She looked around at the crowd. “I don’t know if—”

“No one will notice.”

“Cullen.”

“I’ve missed you.”

She looked at him, rolling her lower lip between her teeth. “I’ll… consider it.”

“Do more than consider,” he said. He wanted to say more, but he spotted Rylen no more than a few paces away.

Rylen had three glasses in hand with several inches of whiskey in them. “How did you know he would have this?” He asked as he settled back onto his stool.

Ariana shrugged. “Prince Vael sent his regards to the Inquisition. I hoped he’d included a bottle with those regards.” 

The knight-captain let out a low whistle as he passed each of them a glass. Ariana smiled as she lifted her glass in a Marcher blessing. “That you may have a thousand good things.”

“Starkhaven forever!” Rylen took a sip of the whiskey, his eyes falling closed as he enjoyed the taste. 

Ariana briefly closed her eyes and muttered something, almost like a prayer, before she took a sip of her own.

Rylen’s eyes popped open and he lifted his glass towards Ariana. “_Dha_… I forgot you speak Gàidhlig.”

“Gàidhlig?” Cullen asked.

“It's spoken around Starkhaven,” Rylen explained.

“What did you say?” 

Cullen looked toward Ariana for a response, but it was Rylen who responded. “For him.”

“Him?” His eyes were focused on Ariana as he asked the question.

“Starkhaven forever,” Ariana evenly responded, as if that explained everything. Rylen watched her inspect the rim of her glass with a sad look on his face. Ariana lifted the glass back to her lips and took another sip as an odd silence descended over them.

Cullen made a mental note to ask about it later, but it was obvious that now was not the time. Cullen took a sip of his whiskey before asking, “I’ve heard you use Orlesian, Gàidhlig, and Common. How many languages do you speak, Bann?” 

“Six.”

Cullen gave her a look of disbelief. “_Six_?”

A mischievous look appeared on her face. “Would you like a demonstration?”

“That’s not necessary… at the moment.” He watched the way her nose flared in acknowledgement and he hoped she’d give one later. Maybe she’d even talk dirty to him in all those languages. But that was a thought for another time. He turned toward the knight-captain. “What about you, Rylen?”

“Gàidhlig and Common. Some basic Fereldan and Orlesian.”

“I never realized how… inadequate my own language skills are.”

“Do you speak anything other than Fereldan and Common?” Ariana asked as she swirled the liquid of her whiskey around in her glass.

The edge of his mouth playfully quirked up at the question. “Enough Orlesian to get me into trouble.”

“Orlesian?” Rylen’s voice was tinged with surprise. “I had no idea.” 

Cullen laughed. “Well, most of the Orlesian I learned in Kirkwall is not useful for polite company.”

“Curse words?” Ariana asked, her head tilting in curiosity.

“Something like that,” he responded, his mouth twisting as he fought back a smile. He wouldn’t call them curse words, but they _were_ dirty when strung together.

“So how does one learn Orlesian in Kirkwall?” Ariana asked with an air of nonchalance. 

Cullen danced around the question as he answered, talking about the rebuilding of Kirkwall, when he and Rylen were both still Templars.

***

Ariana listened to the two men talk about Kirkwall as she sipped on what remained of her whiskey. The stories of rebuilding Kirkwall, in the year after Anders blew up the Chantry, were a side of the commander she liked learning about. She’d gathered pieces of these stories in Haven, trying to get a better sense of the man. She knew the knight-captain had a deep respect for Cullen. So much so, in fact, that he followed his former knight-commander to the Inquisition.

She’d been surprised by Cullen twice tonight already. First and foremost, the man drank whiskey like a Marcher. That was more of a turn on than she’d realized it would be. And second, he'd bothered to learn some Orlesian, although she still didn’t know the context as he’d avoided answering her question. 

A dull thud sounded behind her. 

Cullen was on his feet and rushing toward the bar before Ariana had time to react. Cries of “Inquisitor!” reached her ears as the entire tavern turned to see what happened. 

Her sister was flat on her back on the floor, feet still up on her barstool, hysterically giggling.

“And that’s enough for tonight, Boss!” Bull said as he reached down to lift Evelyn up.

“I’ll take her to bed,” Ariana told him as she approached. Her sister wrapped one arm around Bull’s shoulder and the other around Cullen’s. Evelyn nuzzled her face into Cullen’s jacket, cooing about how warm he was. 

Ariana laughed at the man’s discomfort at having her sister, the Herald of Andraste and Inquisitor, drunkenly rubbing her face into his shoulder. 

“Not necessary. She can stay with Sera tonight.” Bull scooped her small sister into his arms, Cullen looked thankful to be relieved of support duty. “Come check on her in the morning though.” He took her up the stairs to the second level.

“Well, perhaps I should take this opportunity to get to my room.” Ariana smiled at Cullen and Rylen, both men awkwardly standing nearby. “Good night, Commander. Knight-Captain.”

“May I accom—”

“I’ll see you to your room,” Cullen interrupted before Rylen could finish his question.

“Skyhold is perfectly safe, as you both are well aware.” A smirk played at the edges of her lips. 

“That may be, but I’d feel more comfortable if you were not out alone.” Cullen gestured toward Rylen. “Either Rylen or myself would be happy to accompany you.” 

“If you insist, Commander. But only since the door is near your office. I will be more than fine once I’m inside.” She shrugged on her coat before she squeezed Rylen’s arm and wished him a good night in Gàidhlig.

She stepped outside into the winter night, the bitter cold stinging her bare legs. Ariana shivered as Cullen leaned in toward her, his breath hot on her ear. “_J’a hâte de te baiser_.”

_Oh_. His Orlesian was _that_ kind.

“_Tu peux me prendre dans tout les sens_," she murmured back.

His soft chuckle sent a fission down her spine as his fingers ran through her hair, dipping further to her lower back. “Good, because I intend to have you _every_ way.”

She straightened as he slid both of his hands under her coat and around her waist, pulling her toward him. She gave him a smirk, wondering if he could even see her face in the low light. “Would you like to hear some Gaeilge?”

“Only if you use it to tell me all the dirty things you want me to do to you.” His lips found the soft spot below her ear, the soft spot he’d explored so many times as he was buried deep inside of her. 

Her core blossomed into heat as the feel of his lips spread through her, sending a shiver through her body that was not strictly from the cold air swirling around them. 

“_A ligean ar a bheith ina n-aonar_.” Her voice was breathless, impatient. 

He grasped her hand, pulling her with him toward the stairs. They’d made it to the top when he pressed her back into the cold stone of the rampart wall, his mouth finding hers in a deep kiss. His tongue tracked the line of her lower lip before pressing between her lips, seeking entrance to her mouth. 

She sucked his tongue inside of her mouth, swirling her tongue around his playfully as she pressed her body into his, feeling how hard he already was for her. His fingers dug into her hips and held her flush against him, bending her upper body back toward the wall as he continued the onslaught of his mouth on hers.

When they finally broke apart, Cullen leaned his forehead against hers, his hands running up and down her sides, sending jolts of energy through her body. “Maker, I’ve been thinking about this for hours. Days. Since the last time you were in my arms.”

“Let’s go.” She pushed him toward the door of the vacant watchtower, the fingers of one hand intertwined with his own. She should be paying more attention to whether or not anyone could see them, but right now she didn’t care.

They only made it halfway through the abandoned room before Cullen pulled her into a corner and started kissing her again. “Maker, I can’t keep my hands off of you.” 

He pressed his leg between hers, his thigh rubbing against her wet heat. She arched into him as he sucked her lower lip in between his teeth. She let out a muffled moan into his hair as he kissed down her neck, toward her chest. “_Ba mhaith liom tú anois_.” 

The words had the intended effect as he paused with a groan. “I know I said to tell me dirty things, but if you don’t stop I’m going to end up taking you against this wall.” His hands were lifting the hem of her dress as he spoke and her hands were at his waist, working the zipper of his trousers open.

Her hand slipped inside and a hiss escaped from between his teeth as she palmed his hard cock, straining to be freed from the confines of his trousers. “Then take me.” 

She rubbed her hand along the length of him, giving him several firm strokes. She spread her thighs and his fingers found her wetness, pushing her panties aside to slip one finger easily inside of her as her wetness coated it.

“Maker’s breath, you feel so good.” His voice was a murmur on her neck as he pulled his fingers out and then slowly pushed them back in. He did it again, with as much tantalizing slowness as the first time. Her head dropped back against the wall as his thumb began circling her swollen clit. 

“Yes, Cullen…” She wrapped one leg around his waist to give him better access. She felt the fire pooling low in her abdomen as she ground hard against his hand, encouraging him to finger her harder.

Her hand was still wrapped around him, she’d almost forgotten with how good he was making her feel. She ran her hand along his length, up over the head of his cock, and squeeze slightly. He hissed in response, followed by a low moan when she did it again. 

But then he slid a second finger into her and curled them to rub her sensitive spot and she couldn’t focus on what she’d been trying to do. She rocked against his hand, trying to get closer, trying to get more. He lowered his head to kiss her neck, licking at her pulse before running his teeth along her ear. 

“Cullen,” she groaned as she splintered around his fingers with a long single moan, his name echoing off the stones around them.

He freed himself from his trousers at the same time she wrapped her arms around his neck. She hooked one leg over his arm as he lifted her up higher on the wall. She reached down to grab his erection, positioning him at the entrance to her still spasming heat, as he sank her down, slowly onto his erection. His cock slid inside her, expanding her and filling her, their moans intermingling with their kisses as he seated her fully on him.

He pressed her against the wall, one hand gripping her hips and the other wrapped around the back of her neck, as he began rolling his hips into her. Ariana splayed one hand against the wall, crying out in pleasure with each thrust of his hips, each time his pelvic bone rubbed against her. She felt her pleasure building inside of her once more as Cullen took her hard against the wall. 

“Like that… please...”

“Please what?” His voice was strained.

“Keep going,” she choked out. She was close, so close, with his cock moving inside of her. She wanted to come undone around him, _needed_ to come with him inside of her. It had been too long. “Oh fuck,” she cried as she felt herself at the edge again, stiffening in the split second before waves of pleasure burned through her. His name again emanating from deep within her as she flew apart.

His thrusts became more erratic, his hand fisted in her hair as he thrust inside of her. Cullen dropped his head into the crook of her neck. “Ariana, I'm—”

“Yes,” she breathed, clenching her inner walls around him inside of her.

With a shuddering breath, Cullen buried himself inside her as he came. Ariana could feel him pumping into her, her muscles clenching around him in response. After the last of his orgasm ebbed, she dropped one foot to the ground, both of them leaning against the wall breathing heavily. 

He lifted his head from her neck and kissed her, deeply.

“Every time with you is better than the last,” he murmured between kisses, caressing her face. 

She closed her eyes, not wanting him to see the emotion in them. His gentleness in the aftermath left her… conflicted. Against her better judgment, she grasped onto that small flicker of hope, even when her instinct screamed at her to stop it before it went too far. 

He pulled out of her and dropped her other leg to the ground. She leaned against the wall to regain her balance and work out the stiffness of the leg as they each righted their clothes. 

He reached his hand to the back of his neck. “Would you like to—”

“It’s late. I should get to my room,” she interrupted before she strode to the door, not wanting to give him the opportunity to ask her to stay with him. Maker knows she would be tempted if he asked. 

He silently followed her, their footsteps sounding across the stone as they walked across the last section of ramparts to Cullen’s office. When they reached the door to the stone bridge, she stopped him. “I’ll be fine from here.”

The disappointment on his face surprised her. No, that wasn’t disappointment, it was hurt.

She stepped toward him, running her fingers along the stubble at his jaw. “You and I both know I can’t stay here.” 

His arms curled around her waist as he dipped his face to kiss her, a long, passionate kiss that took her breath away, lost in him as she was. As he released her, her hands still clutched him to steady herself. Once she had, he lifted her hand and kissed it, before he opened the door that would return her to the keep. 

The nights she spent with Cullen on their return from Redcliffe had been such a break from her normal routine, she hadn’t really considered what their… relationship? No, _relations_, would look like once they had returned to Skyhold, back into the reality of their lives here.

Ariana crossed the stone bridge, thankful that Skyhold was still quiet despite the hour.

***

Ariana rose early on the twenty-first day of Haring, long before the sun was set to rise. 

She pulled her traditional clothing out of the back of her wardrobe, taking care as she dressed in the simple clothes. The hooded cloak was normally warm enough for midwinter, but here in the Frostbacks she hoped it would be enough.

Each passing day had grown shorter than the last, the amount of daylight lost significant here in the south. She grabbed the small basket of arbor blessing she’d collected before making her way through the still sleeping fortress toward the stables and climbed the stairs that would take her toward the helicopter pad. 

It was the best place she found to greet the arrival of the shortest day of the year. Aside from leaving Skyhold that is, since she knew that would never be allowed. At least not without guards.

The barest hint of grey began to appear on the horizon as Ariana kneeled on the freezing stone, the basket of arbor blessing in front of her. She lifted her palms toward the sky and dropped her head as she began the ancient prayer to welcome the sun.

Her mother had not approved of practicing the traditional beliefs, but her father insisted it was important for any Trevelyan children to know their roots. To remember where they came from and to where they would return when their time on this earth was over. He’d taught them to honor the earth that gave them life, the earth that sustained them.

She could sense the cold seeping through her clothing as she recited the blessing. Her knees were stiff from kneeling on the stone as the sun finally began to rise. Ariana opened her eyes as the first rays of sunlight broke over the mountains and illuminated the stone in front of her. She dropped her head back as she finished the blessing and the warmth of the sun finally reached her.

Ariana rubbed her hands over her arms in an attempt to get warm as she began to unfold herself from her kneeling position. Her teeth began to chatter. She knew she should have worn more layers, but she didn’t have another article of clothing that would be appropriate in the given circumstances. 

She was contemplating how quickly she could get back to her room when someone cleared their throat behind her. She jumped, spinning around and kicking her basket of arbor blessing across the ground in the process, herbs flying everywhere. Cullen stood in front of her holding a coat out toward her.

“We have to get you better winter wear,” he said as he walked toward her and laid the coat around her shoulders. He pulled her into his arms. “You’re freezing.”

Ariana melted into his warmth. “What are you doing here?”

“I walk the ramparts most mornings.”

“And?” She’d stopped shivering, so she pulled back to watch his reaction.

“And what?”

“You don’t want to know what I was doing?”

“I know what you were doing.” He released her, walking over to the herbs spread across the ground and began collecting them back into the basket. 

She silently watched him, only speaking when he handed the basket back to her. “You’re not reacting like most people would.”

He took her arm, leading her toward his office. “Ariana, I know it’s not magic. I was a templar, I know the difference.”

She stopped walking and turned toward him. “Exactly, you were a _Templar_. Capital T.”

“What's your point?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t Templars make some promise to protect Thedas against heretics or something?”

A smile quirked at the corner of his lips. “Maybe they did once, but not anymore. Besides, the Trevelyans are widely known to be devout Andrastians, so I doubt many would believe you to be a heretic.”

“And if I told you I don’t believe in the Maker?”

He evenly regarded her. “Do you not?”

She considered saying no to rankle him. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted, “It’s difficult to have faith in a creator who abandoned us.” 

They started walking again. “Why do you think He abandoned us?”

Ariana gave him a look. “What kind of god subjects his creations to such a miserable existence?”

A pained look crossed Cullen’s face, but he didn’t respond as they closed the distance to his office door. He held the door open for her. She let out a happy sigh of relief at the warmth. 

Once warmed, she shrugged off the coat and handed it back to him. “Thank you for the coat. Again.”

He tossed the coat over a chair. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Always.”

He walked across the room, pulling open a cabinet to reveal a coffee maker. Ariana heard a whirring noise and the scent of freshly ground coffee reached her. The personal coffee maker confirmed it. He was unlike any other Fereldan she knew.

As the coffee brewed, he cleared off one of the chairs in front of his desk and gestured for her to sit down. She felt ridiculous wearing her traditional clothes. “I should change…”

“Coffee first.” He glanced over his shoulder at her and poured the coffee into two mugs. 

She obediently sat down and he smirked as he set one of the mugs down in front of her. She inhaled the roastiness of the hot liquid, closing her eyes as she took her first sip. It was perfectly made.

He was watching her when she opened her eyes. “Black coffee and whiskey. Are you sure you’re Fereldan?”

He smirked again over the edge of his mug. “Born and bred.”

“I don’t know if I’ve had such a good coffee in months. Where do you even get this? Can you get me some?”

He gave her a mischievous smile. “No, but you’re welcome here anytime.” 

“You’re incorrigible,” she laughed. “Fine, I will. This is worth getting up early for.”

The smile disappeared as he looked down into his cup. “You wouldn’t have to get up early if you’d stay the night.” 

She sighed, “You know I can’t.”

“You could.” 

She shook her head, remaining silent. 

He stood and grabbed the coffee pot, bring it back to the desk to top off her cup. “It’s a standing offer should you change your mind.”

The silence stretched on as he returned the coffee pot to its rightful place and sat back down behind his desk. His phone pinged with an incoming message and she watched over the rim of her coffee mug as he read it. She noticed the way a slight furrow appeared between his eyebrows and he twisted his lips in concentration.

He opened his laptop and logged in, before turning to her. “I’m sorry, it’s a report I’ve been waiting on.”

“No matter. I’ve a meeting with Josephine anyway and need to change. Thank you for the coffee. And the coat.” She set down the mug, picked up her basket of herbs, and headed for the door.

“Ariana?” He called after her. She turned to look over her shoulder at him. “You _are_ welcome any time. For any reason.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the story, Gaeilge is the primary language in the southern Free Marches and Gàidhlig in the north.
> 
> _Dha_ \- (Gàidhlig) For him  
_J’a hâte de te baiser_ \- (French) I can’t wait to fuck you  
_Tu peux me prendre dans tout les sens_ \- (French) You can have me any way (lit. you can take me from every side)  
_A ligean ar a bheith ina n-aonar_ \- (Gaeilge) Let’s be alone  
_Ba mhaith liom tú anois_ \- (Gaeilge) I want you now


	20. Chapter 20

“Are they intentionally this asinine?” Ariana sighed as she tossed a stack of papers on the table.

Josephine gave her an indulgent smile as she picked up some of the papers fluttering down towards the floor. “They are accustomed to getting what they want.”

“We are in the middle of the mountains in winter! Do they really think we’ll be able to produce—”she picked up one of the papers she’d dropped and held it up to read—“‘A single custard cake for breakfast with a different selection of fresh fruit each day.’ What a git.”

“Shall we take a break?”

“Yes, please.” Ariana leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes. 

Josephine delicately cleared her throat. “Warden Blackwall invited me to dinner at the tavern. Would you care to join us?” 

Ariana rolled her head to the side to look at Josephine. A faint pink color tinged Josephine’s cheeks. “Warden Blackwall?”

Josephine looked down at her hands, empty without her signature tablet in them. “Yes, he’s quite kind.”

“Wouldn’t you rather have dinner alone?” 

“No!” Her head snapped up. “That would be... You must join us. Please.”

“Josie—”

“It must be _le splendeur des coeurs perdus_,” she interrupted. “Nothing can ever come of it.”

_Le splendeur des coeurs perdus_. The splendor of lost hearts. Even though they both may want it… it could never be. Something would always prevent it. The sentiment hit a little too close to home for Ariana.

Ariana smiled and reached for her friend. “Of course I’ll join you. Do you mind if I invite others?”

“Please do.”

Ariana left the pile of requests for the First Day’s Eve celebration on the table and made her way upstairs to change. Bonnie Sims had pulled her aside before her departure to Redcliffe to let Ariana know her merchant contacts included some of her favorite tailors in Val Royeaux. Ariana didn’t hesitate to place a large order, much of which had arrived the previous week.

She pulled out a grey sweater that, like most of her clothes, appeared modest at first glance. But it held a surprise if she turned around as it was entirely backless. She’d noticed Cullen’s fascination with her back, even if he was not conscious of that fact. He’d often focus on it, touching it, exploring it, tasting it… 

Her previous lovers had been too entranced by other parts of her body, but now that Cullen had discovered it… She liked his attention there. Although, she liked his attention _everywhere_. 

It had been three weeks since they’d returned from Redcliffe and they’d been together less than a handful of times. Under Leliana’s watchful eyes and her sister’s warning, she’d simply chosen to steer clear. It always seemed like a good idea at the time, but when the sun slipped below the horizon and the nights turned lonelier…

It was an invitation to dinner, nothing more, she told herself, pulling on the sweater and pairing it with jeans. He’d been clear the previous week, after he’d found her on the ramparts at midwinter, that he wanted to spend more time together. In bed, certainly, but outside of that as well.

But he didn’t have as much to lose as she did if they were discovered.

She grabbed her coat and exited her room, knocking on the door next to hers. Since Dorian didn’t answer, she assumed he must already be out. She texted him as she made her way toward Cullen’s office, cutting across the stone bridge from the rotunda.

“Enter!” He immediately called when she knocked.

When she pushed open the door, she noticed him rifling through papers on his desk. “Give me a moment,” he said.

Ariana watched as he continued to shuffle around the papers, looking for something specific. When he’d found it, he attached it to a large paper on top of the pile. “There.”

Task complete, he looked up. Something flashed in his eyes when he caught sight of her, something akin to happiness, and he gestured her forward.

“Do you have time for a break?” She asked, walking toward him. She tossed her coat on one of the chairs in front of his desk. 

“That depends on what you have in mind,” he chuckled, standing upright as she came around the desk, leaning back against it.

“Dinner? I’m meeting Josie and some others at the tavern.” 

He shook his head. “Not right now, I’m on to something. But come by after?”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “That depends on what _you_ have in mind.”

He chuckled again and reached for her, resting a hand on her hip as he stepped closer toward her. “Anything you want.”

“Anything? That is quite the offer.” She placed a hand on his chest, noticing the way his breath caught and his eyes darkened. She smirked as she pressed him away from her and turned to leave. He caught her belt loop, stopping her forward motion.

Ariana turned to look at him over her shoulder. Triumph surged through her at the way he was staring at her exposed back. “Is something the matter, Commander?”

He lifted his eyes to hers and she watched him swallow, before he said, “Your sweater…”

“Do you like it?”

He pushed her toward the desk, pinning her hips against it with his own. His hands were roaming over her back, exploring the shapes of it with his fingers. One hand came up to the back of her neck and pushed her upper body down, smoothing her hair over her shoulder. “Do I…”

Ariana closed her eyes at the sensation. The warmth of his hands felt incredible. It felt so good to be _touched_. 

His lips connected with the skin at the base of her neck and she arched into him with a groan.

“Ariana…” He pushed the sweater off one shoulder, his lips following the path his fingers were blazing over her skin. He rolled his hips into hers, the evidence of his desire for her pressing into her, as his other hand made its way around to the front of her jeans.

He fumbled with the button and zipper as he continued his attention with his mouth. The hand that had been at her back slid around to grasp her breast, touching, rubbing, playing... The sensation heightened by the soft wool between his fingers and her skin.

As she felt his fingers slide inside her jeans, brushing along the outside of her panties, she grabbed his hand. “Wait.”

He immediately withdrew his hands, resting them on the desk next to her own. She felt his forehead against the back of her neck, his breathing labored and hot on her skin.

As much as she wanted this right now with him, she had to get to the tavern. She’d promised. She wasn’t going to abandon Josephine this time. Not when it was important to her.

She cleared her throat and Cullen stepped back. She zipped and re-buttoned her jeans before turning to face him. “I’m sorry, I have to go.” 

He closed his eyes and swallowed again, taking in deep, slow breaths, but nodded. 

She adjusted the sweater he’d pushed down over her shoulder as she made her way to the door that would take her to the tavern. She pulled open the door and turned to look at him over her shoulder. “When I come back, I don’t want you to be gentle with me,” she told him as she stepped into the night.

The tavern wasn’t far, so she was still riled from that brief encounter when she arrived. Blackwall and Josephine were sitting in a back corner on opposite sides of the table, awkwardly looking around the room.

“Bann Trevelyan!” Josephine exclaimed as she caught sight of Ariana.

“My lady,” Blackwall said as he stood to pull out a chair for her. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Thank you. Neat whiskey, please.”

Blackwall nodded and started toward the bar.

Josephine grabbed Ariana’s hand. “Are you feeling well?”

“Me?”

“You’re flushed. If you aren’t feeling well, I’m certain that—”

“Josie, I’m fine. I lost track of time and rushed here, that’s all,” she said. Josephine smiled and squeezed Ariana’s hand. “I invited Dorian and I’m sure Varric, Bull, and Sera are already here, if we need backup.”

“That shouldn’t be necessary. Warden Blackwall is a gentleman. I shouldn’t have agreed to this, however, it goes beyond—” 

“Ladies.” Blackwall set a glass down in front of Ariana and retook his seat across from them. Josephine squeezed Ariana’s hand again and then released it. Ariana took the hint.

“Warden Blackwall, you must have seen a great many parts of Thedas. Tell us about your most harrowing adventure.”

Through dinner, Blackwall told them stories, his eyes often making their way to Josephine to check whether or not she was enjoying herself. And in turn, Ariana and Josephine told stories of their own.

They’d only been there a few hours when the tavern considerably quieted as the door opened. Ariana’s curiosity got the best of her when Blackwall leapt up and headed for the door. Her heart sped up as Cullen’s golden eyes connected with hers in the split second before Blackwall greeted him. The intensity in them left her short of breath.

“Good evening, ladies.” Rylen’s familiar brogue interrupted her focus on Cullen.

“Knight-Captain!” Josephine exclaimed. “How lovely to see you this evening.”

“Would you like to join us?” Ariana asked, gesturing toward an empty seat at their table.

“Not tonight, but I wanted to say hello. See you tomorrow for training?” The last question was directed at Ariana.

She sighed, “Must I?” 

“Yes,” he laughed, winking at her. "Enjoy your evening." 

Ariana noticed Josephine closely watching her as Rylen walked away. “What?” 

“Do I sense a little _splendeur des coeurs perdus_ of your own?”

“With...” Ariana glanced in the direction Rylen was walking, toward the table Cullen and some other soldiers had settled at. “No. The knight-captain is a good friend.”

“I see,” Josephine said with a questioning look, smiling as Dorian approached their table. She greeted him with the same exclamation she’d greeted everyone. Ariana noticed the way Dorian puffed up in pride at the ambassador’s enthusiasm. Ariana admired the ability she had to make each person feel as though they were the most important person in the world.

The other two quickly became engrossed in a conversation that Ariana wasn’t paying attention to. She’d noticed another woman approaching Cullen’s table, at least the third or fourth since they’d arrived, and it was starting to annoy her. Not that she’d do anything about it, but it was distracting all the same. 

“Another round?” She asked the others.

“Wine for me,” Josephine told her.

“For me as well,” Dorian paused long enough to say, before diving back into his story.

“I’ll get a bottle,” Ariana told them as she rose from her seat. She found an opening at the far end of the bar, sliding in at the edge to wait for Cabot to notice her.

Someone came up behind her. She instantly recognized Cullen’s scent, his warmth, his energy. She didn’t move as he inched closer in and lifted a hand to touch the bare skin at her back. He spoke low in her ear, “You didn't even react. I could have been anyone.”

She stared straight ahead. “But you weren’t.” 

“You didn’t know that.” When he pressed his body against hers, the pace of her breathing increased as she felt his erection pressing into her backside.

“No one else would dare,” she told him as she moved over, making space for him to join her at the bar. The side of his mouth quirked up as his face came into view. One hand rested on her hip and Ariana looked around to see if anyone was paying attention.

“No one can see back here,” he told her, noticing her glances, “But I can keep my hands to myself.”

She lamented the loss of his touch when he pulled his hand away. “You don’t have to. What are you doing here?” She asked, looking back behind the bar wondering where Cabot was. “I thought you were busy.”

“You distracted me.”

“Oh?” She asked. Cabot reappeared and before he could get too far, she shouted, “Cabot!”

The dwarven man nodded at her as he dropped off a bottle to someone at the other end. They didn’t speak as he approached. “What can I get ya?”

“Bottle of red, whatever you have, and…” She looked at Cullen.

“Whiskey. Neat,” he added.

“Gotta see what we have left,” Cabot told them as he headed back to the back room. 

When he’d disappeared, Ariana turned to face Cullen. “How did I distract…” The words died on her lips. His eyes were that molten color that made her insides melt. She knew what that color meant. She felt a tightening between her legs as she held his gaze, the heat he’d ignited once again fanning into a full blaze.

“I need you to be more specific,” he said. 

Ariana’s eyebrows came together in confusion. “More specific?” 

“About what you meant by ‘not be gentle’.”

“Oh, that.” She was having a hard time breathing because he’d lifted his other hand, the one under the bar, and was rubbing circles with his thumb on her hip, running it along the bare skin above her jeans.

“Yes, _that_.”

“Um, I want you to be a little rough, that’s all.”

His hand stopped moving. “Rough?”

“That’s what I said.”

“What does ‘a little rough’ mean?” His hand started moving again, but this time is slid over her backside. 

“I…” Ariana closed her eyes as he slid his hand down over the cleft where it met her leg and wrapped around her thigh. His fingers were dangerously close to the place she so badly wanted him to touch. She could feel the wetness of her arousal dampening her panties as he stroked her inner thigh. Against her better judgement, she shifted slightly, widening her stance to give him better access.

At hearing his breath catch, she opened her eyes to see him intently studying her face with darkened eyes. He held her gaze as hand ventured further and brushed between her legs. A quiet moan escaped her lips and Cullen jerked his hand away from her, turning toward the bar and putting both hands on top in surrender. 

“Maker’s breath,” he cursed as he fought to get his breathing under control. As they both fought to. “We’re in public.” They were, in the middle of a crowded tavern no less, but there was something… intriguing about the idea.

Cabot appeared and placed the bottle of wine and a couple glasses in front of Ariana. “Need to grab the whiskey, just a sec.” 

Cullen swallowed and nodded at the bottle. “Before you drink that, I need to know what you mean by ‘a little rough’.”

“I want you to have your way with me.”

Cullen gave a forced smile as Cabot set a glass of amber liquid down in front of him. “Enjoy!”

“Thanks, Cabot,” Cullen told him. When he’d left again, Cullen picked up his glass and turned toward her and lowered his voice. “How rough is too rough?”

She grabbed the bottle and wine glasses as she shook her head. “Don’t be _violent_ or anything, but… I don’t know, saying it out loud sounds foolish.”

“It's not. What do you mean by rough?”

“Push me around, bite, or scratch if you want... You're always so in control. I want you to let go a little.”

Cullen closed his eyes and pressed his lips together as he sucked in a deep breath through his nose. “You will be my undoing.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him as she turned to go back to her table. When she did, she found Leliana sitting at the table next to Josephine watching the exchange.

Ariana felt her stomach drop, but put on as normal a face as she could as she walked back to the table and set the bottle of wine and glasses down. “Leliana, what a surprise.”

Leliana gave her a serene smile.

“Oh dear, we’ll need another glass,” Josephine said.

“Allow me!” Dorian leapt up from his seat and made for the bar. 

“So Bann,” Leliana said as she reached for one of the glasses. “We haven’t had much opportunity to catch up since you returned from Redcliffe.”

“That’s true. Josie’s kept me rather busy.”

“I was surprised to hear that Duke Bechalet won’t be joining us for the celebration next week.”

Ariana and Josephine exchanged a glance. “We thought it best to avoid any perception of preference.”

“Oh is that why?” Leliana evenly held Ariana’s gaze. She’d noticed, she _had_ to have noticed the way Cullen was flirting with her. Or she was flirting with him. Or whatever it was they’d been doing.

Ariana felt a flush creep up across her cheeks as Leliana continued to watch her. “Yes. I don’t want to bring any more issues than I’ve already managed to. If I had known that it would end up like this—”

“You can’t control others,” Josephine interrupted, “None of this is your fault.”

“I know, but... Well, thank you.” 

An awkward silence settled over the table. Dorian reappeared, grabbing their ambassador’s hand. “Josie darling, you _must_ dance with me!”

“Oh!” She laughed as she allowed Dorian to drag her out to the middle of the tavern to dance to Maryden’s bright tune.

Ariana held her breath, waiting to see what Leliana would say next, but the woman simply set her glass down on the table and stood. “Have fun tonight,” she said before she disappeared into the crowd.

She let out a slow breath as she looked out to where Josephine and Dorian twirled around the room. She saw Cullen standing in the crowd at the edge of the dance floor and when their eyes connected, he inclined his head toward the exit.

As he set his glass down and began his goodbyes, Ariana rose and made her way to the exit. She stepped out into the darkness, the bare skin at her back pebbling in the cold night. She climbed the stairs to the ramparts, heading for his office.

It was no more than a few minutes after she’d stepped inside that she heard the door open and close behind her, the sound of the lock being pulled grating in the quietness of the room. When she turned, he was moving to the door that led to the keep, pulling the lock in that door too, before he turned to face her, unmoving.

“You will tell me to stop if it’s too much,” he murmured, “Agreed?”

She nodded.

“Say it.”

“I will.”

“You will what?” 

“Tell you to stop if it’s too much.”

At her agreement, he advanced on her, gripping the back of her head as he pulled her toward him, his lips covering hers as he dove in. Ariana opened her mouth to his, his tongue swept in and claimed her. She returned his kiss with the same intensity, wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him closer to her, as he gripped her hips, the evidence of his need for her tightly pressed between them.

Ariana groaned into his mouth as he took several steps back and pressed her against his desk. He broke the kiss and pulled her sweater over her head, haphazardly tossing it to the floor. His hands were on her breasts, fingers playing with her hardened nipples as he dipped his head to her neck.

She cried out as he ran his teeth along her collarbone. Her hands were at his shirt, trying to pull it over his head, but he knocked her hands away before returning to touching her. His hands were _everywhere_. Across her shoulders, her neck, her chest, down her stomach, over her hips, and up along her back.

He lowered his mouth to her breasts, taking one nipple in his mouth as he touched her. When he sucked hard, she bucked against him, clutching the back of his head. Her hips dug into the desk as he pressed into her, keeping her in place.

“Cullen—” she moaned as his teeth brushed her nipple. “Oh Maker.”

He shoved the papers off his desk and pushed her back against it. She shivered, the wood cold against the skin of her back. He didn’t give her a moment’s reprieve as he bent over her, his mouth finding hers again.

His hands slid down her naked upper body to her jeans, ripping the button and zipper open. He once again broke the kiss as he dragged them down and over her legs. Her heels came off with the jeans, and then her repeated the motion, this time with her panties.

He pushed one of her legs up toward her chest. Her breath caught in her chest as he sank to his knees in front of her, lifting the other leg over his shoulder. She could feel her pussy clenching in anticipation, the need for him whipping through, under his intense gaze. 

He leaned forward and inhaled her scent, letting out a groan of his own as dipped forward and lowered his face between her legs. Her back bowed as the stubble on his chin brushed her sensitive clit. 

“Oh Maker, Cullen,” she cried as he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked, his tongue tormenting her. He pinned her hips to the desk as his mouth relentlessly ate her out. Teeth, tongue, and lips working together to rapidly bring her to the edge.

She squeezed her eyes shut, dropping her head back as she gave herself over the intensity, as she felt every brush of his stubble on her inner thigh, every nip of his teeth against her, every pass of his tongue as he tasted her…

His fingers gripped her chin, lowering it. She opened her eyes to find his dark, molten gold staring up from between her legs and she shuddered at the pure lust in them.

She jerked as his teeth brushed her clit again, her mouth dropping open in response to the heightened sensation of her body. He slipped two fingers into her mouth as he continued to work his tongue against her, his chin hard against her.

Her hips bucked up as he finally pushed her to the edge, her teeth biting down on his fingers as the white hot pleasure gathered between her legs. But he didn’t wait for her to finish as he pulled away. Ariana let out a frustrated sob at the unfinished orgasm. 

The sound of his trousers being undone filled the air. She was trying to catch her breath, trying to get control of herself, when she felt the head of his erection sliding against her entrance. 

She lifted her foot to his chest and shoved him backwards. He stumbled several steps in surprise. Ariana was off the desk before he reacted, shoving him into a chair in front of his desk. She channeled the frustration from not being able to finish, not when she’d been so turned on all night. “I was so close,” she told him through a clenched jaw. 

She straddled him, grabbing his thick erection, guiding it back to her entrance. In one swift movement, she thrust down on him, taking all of him inside her. She cried out at the feeling, of having him inside her again. It was the most complete she’d ever felt.

Cullen’s hand slid around the back of her neck, the other finding her hip, as she ground against him. His eyes held hers as she panted on top of him, thrusting, bouncing, trying to find a rhythm. The pleasure began to build in her again and she closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of him inside of her, of all the places he was hitting.

He gripped her hips and, in one swift movement, stood. Ariana’s eyes flew open in surprise, her hands grabbing at his shoulders to keep herself from falling, but he had her. He always had her.

She felt the cold wood of the desk again as he sat her on it, grabbing one of her legs and lifting it over his shoulder again as the other hand came up to her chest, just below her neck. She held his gaze as he pushed her back toward the desk, stopping when she was on her elbows. He moved his hand to grip her shoulder.

He drew a deep breath as he pulled out of her, before slamming back inside of her. His grip on her thigh and her shoulder tight as he filled her. Over and over again.

Ariana groaned at the relentlessness of him pounding against her. She fell back against the desk and lifted a hand to her clit, rubbing circles against the already sensitive flesh as he fucked her. His teeth brushed against the skin of her inner thigh, just above her knee.

“Cullen…” she cried as he bit her and sucked at the skin there. The feeling shooting straight between her legs. “I’m going to—”

He pulled out of her again and her orgasm once again slipped away. “No!” She cried in frustration.

She shot to her feet and he grabbed her wrists, pushing her toward the ladder. “Upstairs.”

“No.” She defiantly lifted her chin, challenge flashing in her eyes.

He grabbed her chin. “No?”

“Why don't you make me.”

He held onto her, taking several steps toward her. She backed away from him, until she’d reached the ladder. Her eyes widened as she felt the rungs pressed against her back.

“Upstairs. Now,” he told her in a low voice.

She relented. “Fine.”

She’d only climbed one rung when she felt his hands at her hips. She paused as he kissed her back at the base of her neck.

“Go on,” he told her. With each rung she climbed, his mouth and tongue worked their way down her spine. It was unexpectedly gentle after the roughness he’d shown her. She liked both sides of him. Cullen was multifaceted in a way she’d never known before.

When she made it to the top, he was right behind her, finally discarding his clothes. He approached her and lifted a hand to her cheek. “All good?”

“More than.”

He gave her another dark smile as he pushed her back onto the bed, flipping her over onto her hands and knees. His hands gripped her hips and he filled her once again, his hard cock plunging inside of her. One hand was at her back, pressing her chest toward the bed. She dropped down, pressing the side of her face to the soft bedding, as his other hand tightly gripped her.

His nails scraped down her back. The pain only heightening the building pleasure between her legs, where he filled her, where he completed her. When she felt his nails running down her back again, she groaned aloud. The only other sounds were that of their bodies slapping together and Cullen’s low grunts.

He bent over her, his breath hot against her ear. “Wear that shirt again and they’ll see that you belong to me.”

“Oh Maker,” she groaned, feeling the pleasure that he’d twice denied her coming to a point again. “Please…”

His fingers reached around her to rub circles on her clit. Ariana shoved her face into the pillow, letting the sensation, the tiny pricks that spread through her body and threatened to explode take over. 

He shifted behind her, perfectly angling his hips to hit that spot inside of her. There, she was so close, she could almost—

Cullen bit down on her shoulder and she shouted into the mattress as her orgasm violently surged through her. It was so intense, she felt everything so acutely, that a pleasure-driven numbness washed over.

His thrusts were more forceful, his groans more erratic as he chased his own pleasure behind her. Cullen let out a loud growl as he found his release, driving as deep as he could. She could feel him still pulsing inside of her as he collapsed on top of her, his breath hot and heavy in her ear. He shuddered as her pussy clenched him, not wanting the moment to it. They lay like that until his breathing quieted and he rolled onto his side, pulling her with him.

The arm under her neck wrapped around her chest and he pulled her body flush against him, tightly wrapping her in his arms. “Still good?” He murmured.

“More than,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around his. She felt him smile into the back of her head before he pressed a kiss there. His breathing grew louder and evened out as he succumbed to sleep. 

Ariana fought her exhaustion, wanting to enjoy the moment before she had to leave. She liked the feel of his arms around her, of the safety they gave her. When she tried to move, his arms tightened, holding her to him, even as his breathing didn’t change. Even asleep he wanted her there.

Well, perhaps she could wait a _little_ longer. She closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth of Cullen’s body around her.

***

The warmth of her body tangled in the sheets next to him when he woke was everything he remembered it being and more. Being able to reach for her, to wrap himself around her, to touch her in the haze of morning had him feeling on top of the world.

She had stayed. Maybe more out of sheer exhaustion than for any other reason, but all that mattered was that she was here next to him. Even after the intensity of what they’d done, she’d stayed. 

He pulled her flush against him and felt along the curves of her body. Every piece of her was utter perfection and he could spend a lifetime exploring every inch of her body.

She shifted next to him, rolling onto her back to look at him with dark, heavy-lidded eyes. His hand slid down the plane of her stomach and she arched her back. “One more?”

“Yes,” she breathed, letting her legs fall open. “Oh Maker, yes.”

He allowed his fingers to meander down further still, exploring the wetness between her legs. He watched every expression on her face as his fingers plunged inside her. She twisted the sheets in her hands as her eyes dropped closed and she raised her hips, trying to get closer to his hand. He chuckled at her impatience as he peppered kisses along her shoulder and neck.

“Please…”

“Please what?” He murmured into her neck as he circled his thumb on her clit and stroked his fingers inside of her. 

She released the sheets and one hand reached for him, wrapping around his erection. “I want you inside me.”

He rolled over, hovering over her, as she positioned him at her entrance. No matter how many times they’d already been together, each time he slipped inside her felt as incredible as the first time. He cherished the way her body welcomed him, the way it wrapped itself around him and enveloped him. Their bodies fit together like they’d been made for one another. She was everything.

His arms were on either side of her head, his hands tangled in her hair, as he moved on top of her. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders as she met him thrust for thrust. Every sensation crossed her face as he filled her over and over again. Her eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to keep her eyes open. Her lips parted, her brow furrowed, and her entire body tightened.

“Cullen…” she panted, clinging to him, arching her back, trying to get closer. She pressed her head back against the pillow.

“That’s it, I’ve got you.”

Then she surrendered. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He would never get enough of the way she looked and the way she felt when she came undone around him. He'd never get enough of how her body quaked beneath him and pulsed around his, pulling him in deeper, urging him to come with her.

It only took a few more plunging strokes before he felt his own imminent release. He buried himself inside of her as he came, spilling his seed into her still pulsing heat.

They stayed wrapped in each other for several minutes as they came down. She lightly ran her fingers through his hair as each of them caught their breath. He flicked his tongue against her neck, reveling in the way she shuddered around him, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

“That was…” She sighed, falling silent.

“Hmm?” He spread kisses along her collarbone as he pushed himself up on his forearms. He ran one hand through her wild hair, taking pride in how thoroughly ravished she looked. 

“Wow.”

He chuckled as he smoothed her hair away from her face. He kissed her forehead before sliding out of her. She sucked in a breath at the loss.

“Fuck,” she groaned. “I don’t know if I can move.”

“I’ll bring you coffee.”

“My hero,” she sighed as she nestled deeper into the bed sheets and closed her eyes. He couldn't believe she'd spent the night. It had been the first time at Skyhold. And even more, he couldn't get over how _right_ she looked asleep in his bed. 

Cullen showered first, willing the hot water to breathe some life into him. If the shower didn’t, then the caffeine would. He hoped he’d remember to set the auto-start timer yesterday.

It was still dark outside as he dressed, although the days would begin rapidly lengthening now that they’d passed midwinter. He climbed down the ladder, the smell of coffee in the air. He started toward the coffeemaker, but a movement made him jump.

Leliana was sitting at his desk, looking at one of the maps he’d left out the previous day.

“What in the Maker’s name are you doing in here?” He demanded, cringing at the sight of a half bare desk. The papers he’d shoved to the ground spread across the floor. 

The papers _and_ Ariana’s clothing. 

There was no way the spymaster hadn’t noticed. And she’d been at the tavern the previous night, so there was no way she also didn’t know who they belonged to.

Leliana lifted her eyes to his, a smile playing at her lips. She gestured toward the door to her right. “That one was unlocked.”

The coffee maker beeped to signal it was done. Cullen pulled out a mug and filled it. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.” She dismissively waved her hand. “Josie received a concerning communication from an old family friend in the Emprise du Lion. Red Templars. We need to talk about it.”

“All right, give me a few minutes. I have to…” He swallowed, not sure of what to say. Leliana hadn’t really answered his question and he didn’t want to give her information she didn’t already know. 

“You weren’t answering your phone.” Leliana pointed to his cell phone, sitting on the desk. He must have left it there last night. She stood and started for the door. “But come to the Rookery whenever you’re ready.” 

“It’s not what you think,” he called after her.

She turned back toward him, that same smile from earlier playing at her lips. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“You won’t tell anyone?”

“Tell them what?” Leliana genuinely looked confused. “That you’re getting laid?”

Cullen’s face burned in embarrassment. “Ah, when you put it that way…” 

“Not my department.” Leliana shook her head and started towards the door. She unlocked the door to the stone bridge and pulled it open. Before she exited, she gave him one last smile. “For what it’s worth, I think she’s good for you.”


	21. Chapter 21

The decorations for First Day’s Eve sprung up seemingly overnight thanks to the long hours crews worked as the Inquisition prepared to host their first major celebration. That their ambassador spared no expense became obvious as the shipments rolled in from all over Thedas for the weeks prior. All the shipments also meant plenty of overtime as each one had to be inspected before they’d allow it across the bridge and into the fortress.

Beyond the shipments, he'd been relentless on the security details. The last time they’d had a celebration of this size, he’d been caught unaware and they’d lost Haven. 

That had been a mistake he would _never_ make again.

In the brief moments he did find for himself, he thought about Ariana. She both wrapped him up and unraveled him in a way that he’d never experienced before. How had she done it in such a short time?

They’d only been together a handful of times since they'd gotten back to Skyhold and it wasn’t enough. But he would take whatever she was willing to give him for as long as she was willing to give it. Even if wasn’t what he wanted, it had to be enough. But still, the wanting settled inside him, like a dull throb. 

The Inquisitor had taken him aside after Redcliffe under the guise of wanting further details about their trip. But as the questions increasingly focused on Ariana and his thoughts about her, he knew that something concerned Trevelyan enough to talk to him.

He had to be okay with what they’d agreed to. A secret relationship for as long as she was willing, because Cullen knew he wouldn't be the one to end it.

From his vantage point on the ramparts, Cullen looked out across the courtyard overflowing with people. The masks of the Orlesians intermingled with the unmasked guests from Ferelden and the Inquisition as people milled about. The tavern doors were flung open and he could hear bawdy tavern music spilling out. They’d set up an outdoor bar under a tent and the alcohol was freely flowing.

Josephine implored him to attend the party and not spend the night on security as he’d planned. He’d been inclined to ignore her request and almost put himself on the duty roster until a new suit showed up in his loft. It had an unsigned note pinned to it, the words “See you tomorrow” neatly written across it.

He would do _anything_ Ariana asked of him.

So after his replacement arrived, he stopped by his room for a quick shower and change into the perfectly fitted suit. 

It was nearing midnight when he finally stepped into the main hall. As usual, his eyes quickly found Ariana. She stood in the middle of a crowd of masked Orlesians, her black dress sparkling in the low light, a few pieces of her hair falling loose around her face. She was magnetic, drawing the focus of all those around her. Her white teeth flashed as she laughed, her head thrown back in joy. Something blossomed inside of him at seeing her in her element like this. She was utterly mesmerizing. 

“Commander! You came.” Rylen interrupted his thoughts and shook his hand, clasping Cullen on the back.

“How is it tonight?”

Before Rylen could answer, the man jumped and turned to several giggling Orlesian women behind him. “Away and raffle yerself!”

Turning back to Cullen, he frowned, his tattooed chin wrinkling in distaste. “Orlesians.”

Cullen would have laughed had he not seen several others circling them like vultures. “Let’s see if we can get some help. Leliana!”

The spymaster sauntered up to them, slowly. “Don’t you two look handsome tonight?”

Cullen pulled her toward him. “Help us.”

She widened her eyes, giving them an innocent look. “Help with what? It’s First Day’s Eve. Who knows where the night will lead?”

Two Orlesian women came up behind him and wrapped their arms around his waist. Leliana rolled her eyes and quipped at the women in Orlesian. The women disentangled themselves from him and disappeared, giving Leliana nasty glances on the way.

“I don’t know if I should thank you for that,” Cullen frowned at her. “That'll make it worse.”

“What did you say?” Rylen asked.

Leliana gave Rylen a mischievous look. “Oh, merely that it's a waste of time since you don’t swing that way. Neither of you. But I doubt that will deter them for long.” With a wave, she sauntered off into the crowd.

Rylen muttered under his breath. Cullen didn’t know exactly what he’d said but imagined it mirrored his own thoughts in that moment. 

Josephine hurried up to them. “Oh Commander! You are here. Very good, very good indeed.”

“I am, but now I’m leaving.” Leliana’s little rumor was bound to be making rounds already. He knew he’d be fighting off more women and men soon.

“Me too,” Rylen agreed.

Before they could move, a loud scream echoed through the room and Iron Bull came running through the main doors, Sera sitting on his shoulders and brandishing a whip. 

“Yeaaaa!” The young woman screamed, her hand swirling wildly over her head.

Josephine’s eyes widened. “Oh dear. Excuse me.” She rushed off in the direction the two had gone.

Cullen and Rylen exchanged a glance. “I’m leaving. I'll see you in the morning. Best lock your door tonight.”

“You too, ser.”

Escaping the wandering hands of various partygoers, Cullen slipped into the rotunda. The music quieted down as the crowd started shouting numbers. Halfway across the room, the numbers became more coordinated and he heard “Thirteen… twelve… eleven…”

“Commander!” He was a few feet from the door to the stone bridge when her voice stopped him cold. He turned to face her, watching her quickly move toward him across the large room, her dress scintillating with each step.

“Seven… six… five…”

In her heels she was almost as tall as him, her grey eyes shining as she slid her hands around the back of his neck. His hands instinctively wrapped around her waist to pull her closer in response.

“Two… ONE!” The crowd in the main hall erupted and she pressed her lips to his, kissing him as though her life depended on it. 

One of his hands made its way up the smooth skin of her back as the other slid down further, feeling the stiff edges of the sequins that covered her dress. She wrapped her fingers into the lapel of his jacket as their kiss deepened.

Her eyes were glazed over when she finally pulled away, her tongue snaking out over her lips. “Happy First Day.”

Cullen pulled her in for another kiss, simply because he could. When they broke apart again, he watched her heaving for breath, her lips swollen and ravished. Maker, she was so beautiful. 

His want for her pulsed inside of him, almost painful in his need. He couldn’t help himself, he pulled her back toward him, pressing his lips to hers one more time... exploring, tasting, not wanting the moment to end. If this was all he could have of her, he would take every moment and more.

“Leave your door unlocked,” she told him, taking in deep gulps as she tried to catch her breath.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea tonight.”

“Please?”

He ran his finger over her lips and cheek. “For you, always.”

She slipped out of his arms and slowly backed away, blowing him a kiss before she returned to the festivities in the main hall.

***

Cullen woke with a start. The pitch black in the room disoriented him, he couldn’t quite remember where he was, but his arms were tight around a warm body—a warm, naked woman’s body—pressed against him. 

The dreams had been erotic and vivid, his erection almost painful pressed between their bodies, as his consciousness worked to put together the pieces of where he was. The woman in his arms let out a sigh and shifted. Ariana. His cock leapt at the memory of the dreams. They had been of her. They were _always_ of her.

He nuzzled her neck, breathing in the scent of her warm skin as he kissed his way up toward her ear. “Ariana, wake up.” 

She sighed against and nestled in closer to him. His hand followed the curves of her body, feeling the line of her collarbone, down to the fullness of her breasts, nipples already tight, and to her sides, to the swell of her hips.

Although he’d had her in as many ways as he could in their short time together, the demons of the Fade still taunted him with what he could never have. The weight of losing this, of losing her, overwhelmed him. He needed to forget what was to come next, to focus here on this moment with her in his arms.

“I need you,” he whispered into her neck, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips. He wanted to be inside of her, to feel her come undone around him. He needed to remember that she came undone for him. Not for anyone else, for _him_.

She arched into him, ass more firmly pressed against his crotch, as she lifted a leg over his hip. She placed her hand over the one on her hip, moving it down between her legs. He felt her head turning. “I dreamt of you,” she murmured, voice muffled against his head. 

As Cullen ran his fingers along her folds, he discovered how wet she already was. He kissed her as he slipped several fingers inside of her, her muscles clenching at the sensation. She moaned, her head falling back as he worked his fingers inside of her, feeling the way she clenched him. 

“Need more,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her, rolling onto his back with her on top of him. His hands roamed over her exposed body. Her head laid back against his shoulder as his hands explored her in the darkness, feeling the lines of her body, the goosebumps that erupted across her skin in the cold air, her tight nipples… He rolled each one between his fingers, a thrill shooting through him at the way she cried out.

“Cullen, please...” Her hand reached down to wrap around his cock as he touched her. “I need you inside of me.” 

She guided him to her entrance, rubbing the head across the wetness gathered there. He gripped her hips and pushed her down onto his cock, her heat enveloping each inch of him as he slid deeper into her. When he was finally sheathed fully inside of her, her muscles rippled and spasmed around him. He let out a loud groan at the feeling of completeness he found there.

This was how the demons tormented him… the wholeness he’d found in her, the entirety of his sense of place. Here with her. Here inside her. She was everything. How was it possible for this woman to feel so amazing wrapped around him?

“You feel so… so good.” She slightly lifted her hips, pressing herself up to a seat. 

He ran his hands down the expanse of her back, feeling the softness of it, listening to the way she moaned in response. Then he continued to slide them down to her hips and over ass once she was upright. Ariana began rocking on top of him, the feeling of her grinding on him overwhelming him. He couldn’t see her, but he could feel every movement, hear every small gasp and moan that escaped her lips as she rode him.

The sensations of her overwhelmed him. He needed to be closer, to hold her, to feel her in his arms. He sat up, wrapping his arms around her as she moved, pressing his lips into her shoulder. She dropped her head back and one of his hands found its way down to where their bodies were joined. He played with her clit, his fingers flicking and teasing, mimicking the movements of his cock inside her and of the hand on her breast.

He knew she was close, he could tell by the way her body was tightening, withdrawing into itself. He knew the sounds she made as she chased her orgasm, what each soft moan and cry meant. That sigh that he so often dreamed about, the small hitch of her breath, the tiny mewl. He could sense it by the way she began to pulse around him, drawing him deeper, urging him on. 

He ran his teeth along the ridge of her shoulder, timing his ministrations with the way her hips swirled and rolled on top of him. “Oh my… Maker—Cullen!” 

When her movements faltered, he nipped and sucked at her shoulder, the pressure of his hands increasing as she her body pulled in on itself before she shattered around him.

Her muscles clenched his cock, her release coating him in wetness as she trembled in his arms. He lay back on the bed, pulling her down with him, and he began more rapidly thrusting into her, his hands gripping her waist with each thrust. 

Her name was the chant on his lips each time he buried himself inside of her. 

Cullen had learned her body. He knew the ways that he could push her to the brink and over again and again. He reached for her clit but found her hand already there. He was close, so close, but her needed to feel her come undone again one more time. 

“Come with me.” 

Her hand cupped his balls, rolling them between her fingers. With a few last pumps as she climaxed around him again, he drove as deep into her as he could and his own orgasm rocketed through him. 

All he could do was hear the way her breath faltered, her gasps for breath after the long deep groan of her release, mixed with his own grunts as he buried himself inside of her. All he could do was feel the way she clamped around him, her inner muscles pulsing around him, encouraging every last drop of his seed into her. 

And in his chest, he could feel something new threatening to erupt as he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them onto their sides, the air cool against the heat of their bodies. Cullen grasped at this moment, this feeling of utter and complete wholeness that the woman in his arms gave him as her heart beat in time with his. 

He never wanted the moment to end. 

Her breathing steadied and her heartbeat slowed as he tried to memorize the way her body felt against his. The room was lightening with the rising sun, but he wasn’t ready for it to end. Instead, he pulled the blanket up around them and nestled into its warmth, content to keep her here as long as he could.

***

It took Skyhold several days to recover from the First Day festivities. The Inquisitor finally departed for the Emprise du Lion and, for the first time since she’d fallen out of the Breach, she hadn’t asked Solas to join her. Judging by the looks the other two advisors exchanged, they’d been as surprised as he was to hear that Trevelyan would be traveling with the Iron Bull, Dorian, and Sera.

The Inquisitor hadn’t yet arrived in the Emprise when the reports began coming in of extremist Red Templar activity in the area. Scout Harding had done as much as she could to track the activity, but there was so much of it. Samson escaped after Haven and Leliana still hadn’t tracked his whereabouts, leaving Cullen feeling uneasy about the entire situation.

He’d risen early that day so he could spend the morning in the forward camp with the troops. Their numbers continued to swell as the Inquisition’s reputation improved throughout Thedas and Cullen thought the poor weather a good opportunity to spend some time getting to interact with them.

The other advisors had agreed to reschedule the war council to later in the afternoon. Trevelyan was due at Sahrnia Camp today and they needed her update before they took any further action from this distance. Cullen was planning to dispatch the first troops as early as that evening if she felt the situation warranted it. 

He was already making the long trek by foot back up to the fortress when he received a text from Ariana asking to meet him in his office. He wouldn’t have much time before the war council, but he always took whatever snatches of time he could get with her. They were so few and far between.

One of the troops at the main gate tried to get his attention as he purposefully strode by on the way to his office. “Ser, there’s a—”

“Not now, Scout,” he growled, brushing the man off as he headed toward his tower. He took the stairs two at a time and was out of breath when he finally pushed opened the door. 

His office was empty.

He allowed the disappointment to wash through him. Closing his eyes, he took in a breath. A scent reached him, distracting him from his thoughts. It smelled faintly of lilies. He knew that perfume.

“Excited to see me, Big Guy?” A sultry voice purred from behind him. 

His eyes snapped back open and he felt frozen on the spot, hand still on the door handle. Slowly, he turned his head toward the voice.

She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. Her long auburn hair fell in curls around her face, and she was heavily made up, as always, with her eyes darkened and lips painted red. She lifted an eyebrow at him, questioning his silence.

“Nadine.” 

She gave him her signature smirk as she unfolded herself from the wall. She stalked toward him, tossing her hair over her shoulder. As she approached him, he realized she was much smaller than he remembered, barely reaching his shoulders even in her heels.

He stiffened as her hand reached up to caress the stubble on his face. “How’s my favorite templar?” She purred, her fingers trailing on the stubble down his neck to tease at the neckline of his fatigues.

“Ex-templar,” he corrected.

“Commander of an entire army now,” she continued the movement of her hands, sliding down across his chest toward his hips. He jerked away from her, skirting around her on the way to his desk. He could sense her pouting behind him, knowing what would come next, but he didn’t care. 

He wanted her out.

“Why are you here?” He picked up the tablet from his desk to go through the reports from that morning. He’d already read them, but he needed something to focus on.

“To see you,” she cooed in Orlesian as she sidled up beside him at the desk, her dark brown eyes blinking at him. She tried to lift her hands to his chest, but he stepped back from her again. 

“Why are you at Skyhold?” He pressed.

Her lower lip jutted out in a pout and she hopped up on his desk, crossing her legs and angling her body to show off certain parts, particularly those accented by the deep neckline of her shirt.

Cullen sighed. There was a time her antics would have worked. They would have, and _did_, for the younger man he’d once been. The young man who used women and drugs to feel validated. To feel worthy. To feel loved. Nadine had been one in a long line of those women who he’d used to fill that void inside of him. The women who'd made him feel loved for a little while. 

“Why are you at Skyhold?” He repeated the question.

She rolled her eyes at his question. “A mission. I’m here to accompany some northern noble as her assistant. I guess it’s better than being a housekeeper again.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the words.

Cullen felt the pit in his stomach slam into his chest as two realizations hit him at once. First, Ariana would be leaving Skyhold for some amount of time. Second, she’d be doing so with Nadine. 

His stomach churned as he worked through the thoughts in his mind. Nadine was dancing her fingertips up his forearm when he realized what she was doing. He stepped back away from her another step. She pouted, folding at the waist as she leaned toward him. 

Cullen maintained eye contact. “When do you leave?”

A sly smirk spread across Nadine’s face. “Not until tomorrow. We have all night.”

“I—No, I already have plans,” Cullen rushed the words out. 

Nadine’s red lips turned down at the edges. “Plans?” Her voice had taken on a higher pitch and he could see the outrage building in her eyes. Next, she’d start shouting. Maybe throw some of the papers off his desk at him. 

It was tiresome. When they’d been sleeping together, they’d always ended up naked after those blowout fights, but he didn’t want to be that man anymore. No, he wasn’t that man anymore. And if he was getting naked with anyone, it was _not_ Nadine.

She sucked in a deep breath, but someone cleared their voice from the doorway before she could say anything. “Commander Cullen? The war council has been convened.”

Cullen nodded at the scout and gathered up several documents from the desk before he turned to face Nadine. Frustration was written on her face as she watched him, but she didn’t try to touch him. 

Good. Hopefully she’d learned.

“I have a meeting,” he said, lamely gesturing toward the open door. 

Nadine looked at the open door in distaste, but didn’t move from her perch. “You always had time for me in Kirkwall.”

He shook his head and turned to leave. “We’re not in Kirkwall anymore.”

***

When Cullen pushed the door to the war room open, he saw Ariana standing next to Josephine at the war table, the two of them discussing something in lowered voices. Ariana had her cell phone out and was swiping her finger across the screen every so often. Pictures.

She didn’t even look up at him as he entered, but Josephine did, giving him a warm smile. “How kind of you to finally join us, Commander.” 

Leliana’s eyes were focused on him from the back wall where she stood, watching his entrance. 

He nodded in her direction as he walked around the table, but he could feel her eyes watching him, calculating and measuring why he was late.

Ariana tucked her phone into her pocket before stepping several feet away from Josephine, further away from him. As though she were putting some distance between them, using their ambassador as a barrier. 

He ventured a glance toward her. Her arms were tightly crossed over her chest and her lips curled down into an unhappy frown as she focused her attention on the table in front of her. On the walk to the war room, he’d wondered if she’d been in his office that afternoon since it was her idea to meet there. The fury simmering in her eyes confirmed that she had been, most likely finding Nadine there.

If Leliana recalled the woman for whatever mission she was going on, that meant it was in Orlais. Since Ariana would be going, it had something to do with other nobles. 

The third realization of the afternoon settled over him like an uncomfortable weight. She was going back to Val Royeaux.

The peace negotiations at Halamshiral weren’t until spring, but the women had been talking about another ball at the Imperial Palace. Of course Ariana would be going. Leliana wouldn’t miss the opportunity to put as many eyes and ears into the city as she could. As much as he hated how she’d come by it, she _had_ gathered intelligence for them before and that intelligence had been proven to be invaluable.

But he didn’t want her to go. Not to Val Royeaux to where her former lover would certainly be. Cullen wasn’t clear on how Josephine had managed it, but both Ferelden and Orlais had backed away from their threats of war against the other. And neither had so much as suggested marrying Ariana again. A fact for which he was immensely grateful to their ambassador. But even so, he didn't like the thought of her being so close to Bechalet.

“So what is the theme this year?” Leliana asked as she approached the table.

“The Grand Tourney!” Josephine enthused, turning her tablet to show the invitation to the Wintermarch Ball. Cullen rolled his eyes at the images of medieval templars on horseback. 

Ariana flashed her eyes toward him like a sharp dagger before smiling at Josephine’s enthusiasm. “Josie and I were discussing which costume I should go with. I was thinking the blue.”

“But the green and gold would be so delightful!”

Leliana lifted her fingers to her chin. “Aren’t those the colors of the de Chalons?”

“Oh!” Josephine turned back toward Ariana with surprise. “Oh dear.” 

“Blue it is.” Ariana pulled out her phone. “That was easy.”

“He will be there, will he not?” 

Ariana didn’t look at Leliana, focusing instead on the message she was typing as she spoke, “One would assume.”

“You’ve not spoken with him?” Josephine’s eyebrows furrowed. 

Cullen’s phone buzzed in his pocket, signaling a new text message. He pulled out his phone and opened the message.

> _A. Trevelyan_: The bedroom Orlesian makes sense now

His eyes slid up to her face. Her chin was slightly lifted and he could tell she was watching him out of the side of her eyes. He quickly typed back a response and locked his screen. 

> _Me_: Does it matter?  
_Me_: Come over later.

Ariana’s phone pinged and she looked down at it. Josephine lifted her eyebrows. “Well?”

“He agrees the blue is perfect. It’ll be ready before the ball.” 

> _A. Trevelyan_: Who is she?

“Not your dressmaker! You have told _him_ you’ll be in Val Royeaux, yes?”

> _Me_: An ex.  
_Me_: From Kirkwall.

Ariana looked up from her phone, her eyes flashing toward him before she answered Josephine, “No. He’ll find out eventually.” 

“But you’ll be there two weeks!”

“Two weeks?” Cullen interrupted. The three women looked over at him, as though they’d forgotten he was standing there. 

“The ball is next Satinaday, so yes, two weeks,” Ariana said, lifting her eyebrows at him.

Maker, how was he ever going to survive two weeks without her?

> _A. Trevelyan_: Why is she here?

“Maybe I should call Jean-Luc...” Ariana mused. “Two weeks is a long time.” 

“What happened to not antagonizing Ferelden?” Cullen asked as he pushed send on the next message.

> _Me_: To go with you.  
_Me_: I had nothing to do with it.

Josephine let out a sigh, “Of course, Commander. It’s too soon.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Leliana said. “They seem to have calmed down.”

Ariana sighed as she looked down at her phone. Cullen tried not to look too anxious as she finished a message. 

“But it has been nice not to have Ferelden and Orlais at each other’s throats, or at ours, about this,” Leliana continued.

His phone buzzed in his hand and he snuck a look at the spymaster. Leliana was looking at Ariana, so he unlocked his phone.

> _A. Trevelyan_: Why was she in your office?  
_A. Trevelyan_: Did you ask her there?

“I don’t want to encourage either of them,” Ariana insisted.

“Of course, nor should you.”

> _Me_: No.  
_Me_: I kicked her out.  
_Me_: Come over later.

“Seems you are in need of a date then,” Leliana mused as she slid her eyes to Cullen. “Hmm?”

“Me?” At his question, Ariana snapped her eyes over to meet his. He hadn’t told Ariana that Leliana was aware of what they were doing. At least, to the extent she’d surmised. The idea was tempting, but… He shook his head. “No. I can’t. Not with Trevelyan in the Emprise.”

“Perhaps Knight-Captain Rylen then?” Ariana asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“None of my soldiers.” Cullen frowned at her as he pocketed his phone. “Take Warden Blackwall.”

“No, he wouldn’t do. I need someone noble,” she sighed.

“Rylen isn’t noble,” he told her. She gazed at him as she shrugged in response.

Leliana studied the exchange between the two of them, before shifting her attention to their ambassador. “Josie, do you think we could borrow one of your brothers?”

“Oh! Laurien will be attending. He might be available.” 

“Can’t she go alone?” Cullen asked. 

Josephine sighed. “Yes, but a date would be better to keep the peace.”

“Very well. If Josephine’s brother is unavailable, take Warden Blackwall,” he told Ariana. “Or don’t go.” 

“That’s not an option,” Leliana said. “She’s leaving tomorrow. Speaking of which… did you know Miss Leveaux will be accompanying the bann?”

“I had heard something of that, yes.” 

“You had? Oh.” Leliana turned toward Ariana. “Bann Trevelyan, have you met her yet?”

Cullen didn’t know how Ariana managed to keep her face perfectly neutral, but she did. “I had the pleasure of meeting her earlier. She is quite... charming.”

“Did you say Leveaux?” Josephine asked. “Is she of the Heartlands’ Leveaux family?”

“No, of Halamshiral.” The words were out of Cullen’s mouth before he thought about them. Ariana’s mouth pressed into a tight line and Leliana cocked her head at him.

“She’s from Halamshiral?” Josephine repeated. “How do you know that?”

“Yes, how do you know that?” Ariana asked, her eyes narrowed at him.

Cullen sighed. This day was not going as planned. If he’d had his way, he’d have spent the afternoon making Ariana moan his name, not discussing the former lover that had ruined his day. And his month, since she was taking Ariana from Skyhold.

He pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “We knew each other Kirkwall. Now can I go?” 

Leliana shrugged and Ariana was still glaring daggers at him. Josephine brightly smiled. “Of course!”

He stalked out of the war room. Maker help him if Nadine was still in his office when he got back. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Ariana as he walked.

> _Me_: Come to my office after.  
_Me_: That is not a request.

His phone buzzed.

> _A. Trevelyan_: Make me

He let out another frustrated sigh and started typing a response. He deleted it and retyped it several times, watching the little dots simultaneously appear and disappear under her name as he did.

> _A. Trevelyan_: Teasing  
_A. Trevelyan_: I'll come as soon as I can  
_Me_: Yes, you will.  
_Me_: Over.  
_Me_: And over.  
_Me_: And over.  
_A. Trevelyan_: Only 3  
_A. Trevelyan_: ?  
_Me_: As many times as you want.

Thankfully, Nadine was nowhere to be seen when he opened his office door. Ariana breezed in several minutes later and locked the doors behind her.

She pulled her dress over her head. “I want five. Think you can handle it?”

Cullen welcomed her into his arms and tangled his fingers in her hair. “At your service.”

***

The Inquisitor’s reports from the Emprise du Lion were alarming. Cullen knew that whatever the Red Templars were doing in the region was important to their cause given how they fought back against the Inquisition. It was the intensity with which they fought to maintain their ground that unsettled him more than their presence.

He’d lost all concept of time in the days since Ariana left for Val Royeaux. When he did sleep, it was short lived and fraught with the nightmares and temptations that accompanied lyrium withdrawal. 

So he worked to distract himself from the want. He worked to keep himself in check when he felt hopelessly lost at sea. With Trevelyan away, the advisors were no longer meeting on a regular schedule. The others would send a message whenever he was needed, and in the meantime, he worked. 

Cullen leaned back in his chair, feeling a lyrium headache coming on. Again. He rubbed circles around the sides of his temple, listening to his officers argue about the best strategy for Suledin Keep. 

“We can’t lay siege to an entire area!” Portier yelled, jabbing his finger at a spot on the map laid out across Cullen’s desk.

Karner refrained from rolling her eyes, but barely. “And why not?”

“Those tactics are positively medieval.”

She sighed. “That doesn’t make them any less effective.”

“You’ll kill innocents!” The man yelled.

“No one would say Red Templars are innocent,” Karner shot back. “Thedas will not mourn their loss.”

Cullen stopped rubbing his head and opened his eyes as silence fell in the room. Everyone was staring at him. “What?”

Karner lifted an eyebrow while Portier began to sputter, “Commander, she can’t simply—”

“Of course I can!” Karner shot back, narrowing her eyes at the short, round man whose finger was now jabbing at the air in the direction of her face.

“Enough!” He shouted. “I can't hear myself think.”

As he reached into his drawer for one of the herbal chews, Cullen’s phone began to ring. He thought about ignoring it, but he needed an escape from the chaos around him. Several stacks of paper went flying as he searched his desk for the phone.

He slid his finger across the screen as he answered, not bothering to look at the caller ID. “Rutherford.”

“Hello, Commander.” Her low voice came through the earpiece. Cullen’s eyes flicked up to the people around the desk who were silently staring at him.

He cleared his throat and gestured toward the others to leave. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I sent you a picture.” 

His phone buzzed. “Give me a moment,” he told her as he held the phone away from his face and clicked through to his text messages.

> _A. Trevelyan_: 1 image

Cullen clicked to download the image. As soon as it loaded, his eyes snapped up to the people still milling about the room. “Everyone out. Now.” 

Karner stared at him in disbelief. He lifted his hand toward the door and she snatched several papers from his desk and stormed out. 

“Who are you entertaining?” She asked as Cullen moved toward each door of his office, pulling the ancient deadbolts in each one to make sure they were locked. He’d make that mistake only once.

“Strategy meeting.”

“It’s Satinaday,” she sighed. “Take a break.”

“How exactly would you suggest I do that?”

Silence stretched through the line as Cullen held his breath, waiting to see if she would bite. The photo she’d sent had been of her on the balcony in the Val Royeaux sun, a far cry from the snowy weather they had at Skyhold. She was wearing a robe that slid down off her shoulders. It looked like she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“Are you alone now?”

Cullen sat back down in his desk chair. “I am.”

“Do you miss me?”

“More than anything.”

He could feel her energy radiating through the phone. He leaned his head back against his chair and closed his eyes, imagining her sitting in front of him, perched on his desk with that smirk in her eyes. He felt his cock stirring at the thought of her, the thought of losing himself in her.

They hadn’t spoken since she’d left for Val Royeaux. Nor had they before she left, not really. He’d had every intention of talking, of explaining, but another woman was the farthest thing from his mind after she’d discarded her clothes.

“What are you thinking about?” The lowered timbre of her voice sent a frisson through Cullen’s body. He imagined her body and the way she moved underneath him. The feel of her soft curves against him.

“You.”

“What about me?”

“Your, um…” Cullen trailed off as he became aware of the brightness of the room. Judging by the amount of light, it was early afternoon. He should be working on the offensive plans the Inquisitor would need to begin assaulting the keep by early next week if—

“My what, Cullen?” Ariana purred through the phone. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“I, ah…” He stalled, trying to refocus his attention on the image he'd had of her seconds before.

“Well, I’m thinking about what it would be like to have you in Val Royeaux with me. You bending me over on this balcony, where anyone could see us…”

He coughed as the image appeared in his mind. He rubbed his palm against the front of his trousers as he thought about her naked back, his hand sliding down over her ass—

She interrupted his thoughts. “Where are you?”

“My office?”

“In your chair?” 

He chuckled. “That’s right.”

A pause extended through the line. “Ask me what I’m doing right now.”

“What are you doing?” The words spilled out.

“I’m running my fingers along the neckline of this robe, imagining it’s your fingers touching me instead.” Cullen sucked in his breath and he thought of the photo, of where his fingers would be if she were lying here in front of him.

“Your turn,” she prompted.

“I…” Cullen trailed off. As long as she was in front of him he could tell her dirty things all night long, but this game was outside his experience.

“What would you do if you were next to me?”

“I’d untie that robe and run my hands over your…”

“My what?”

“Breasts.”

She sucked in a breath. “And then?”

“I’d slide them lower, down your body.”

Her next sigh was more charged than the others. “To where?”

“Between your thighs. You’d drop your knees open. Knowing you, you’re already wet.” Ariana moaned softly into the phone. He hopefully added, “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Fuck yes.” She quieted and the silence stretched on. “I’m imagining your fingers inside of me, you sliding them in and out…” 

Cullen became painfully aware of how hard he’d made himself by rubbing his cock as they talked. His erection strained at his trousers. He fumbled one-handed with his zipper as she spoke, aching to relieve the pressure. “But if you were in front of me I’d have your trousers off and my hand wrapped around you, sliding up and down your cock.”

Cullen’s cock jumped at her words and he wrapped his hand around it, giving himself a few quick pumps. He remembered the lube he’d bought from the mages when they’d first arrived in Skyhold and hoped it was still in his desk where he left it. With his left hand, he pulled open the lower drawer and began fumbling around.

Ariana sucked in a breath, “You’re so hard. Maker, I want to feel you inside of me.”

He squirted the thick liquid into his hand, not caring where it ended up, and wrapped his hand around his erection with a loud sigh. “Yes.”

She moaned and Cullen tightened his grip, sliding his hand up and down. Ariana groaned, “Are you stroking yourself?”

He groaned as well as he gave himself several short pumps, the sounds she made driving him closer to the edge. “Yes.”

“Let me listen.”

He set the phone down on the chair arm and flipped it to speaker. “Is that all right?” He gave himself several experimental strokes. Her moans told him all she needed to know.

“I wish I was there. On top of you…” Cullen picked up his pace. “Feeling you inside me.” He sucked in a breath as his cock twitched in his hand. “I’d slide you in as deep as I could, all the way. The way you feel when you're buried in me—”

“Maker,” he groaned, feeling the way his balls tightened and he felt a stirring at his core. “Ariana, I can’t... much longer.”

“I’m so close, please...” 

“Come for me.” 

Ariana let out a low moan and he heard the soft exhale that accompanied her orgasm, “Cullen.” 

At the sound of his name, Cullen let out a soft grunt as his own release pulsed through his body, like a soft wave capsizing him. Ariana’s sighs combined with his continued strokes prolonged his pleasure.

Seconds ticked by at the sound of their heavy breathing. Cullen reveled in the noises she made as she came back down. If Cullen closed his eyes, he could also imagine her next to them, their bodies pressed together.

“Andraste, I needed that,” Ariana sighed. Cullen silently agreed with her, but didn’t respond. 

A knock sounded on Cullen’s door and someone tried the handle. Ariana cleared her throat. “Thanks for your help with my… problem.”

“I... ah, anytime.”

“Oh, I’ll hold you to that. _Commander_.” With that, the phone disconnected. The way she said his title... He shouldn't enjoy it as much as he did. 

Cullen heard another bang on the door. He shouted, “A moment!” 

He cleaned himself up before throwing the lube and the towel back into a desk drawer and headed to open the office door. When he did, Karner was leaning over the ramparts, staring out across the courtyard. 

Her blonde hair hung in a long braid down her back, whipping around as she turned at the sound of the door opening. Taking him in, she shook her head and sighed, “I'd heard she was here, but I didn't think—”

He interrupted, “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Not that any of them were great, but she was the _worst_,” Karner said as she followed him into his office. “I can’t even say her name. Maker's breath, really? _Her_?”

“Lay off it, Elwyna,” he warned.

“Wow. So that’s how it’s going to be then?” Karner’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “Rosey isn’t going to be happy. They never liked her.”

“Rosey won’t be happy until I settle down with a nice Fereldan girl.”

“That’s not true and you know it. They just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. Feel free to pass that message along.”

Karner gave him a level look. “You could tell them yourself you know.”

“Why? So they can lecture me about my life choices? _Again_.”

“They’re your family. They love you. You should—”

“Drop it. You’re not here to talk about my family, so why don’t you tell me why you are.” 

Karner gave him another even look before shaking her head, before she explained what she’d learned about Suledin Keep.


	22. Chapter 22

Cullen stared at the images on his screen, the only sounds coming from each click as he moved to the next one. His stomach roiled as he took in the photographs. There were no more than a dozen in his inbox, but he knew that it was only the beginning of what they’d found.

That morning Trevelyan and company had assaulted a Red Templar stronghold, not the keep itself yet, but one nearby. He’d provided as much support as he could from a distance, using what technologies they’d managed to pull together in the weeks that she’d been in the Emprise.

She video called him as soon as she was given the all clear. Cullen and several officers had been waiting for the call, but he hadn’t expected what came next.

“Commander.” Trevelyan’s voice caught and she took a steadying breath. “We’ve cleared the mine.” 

Cullen studied her face through the computer screen. She hadn’t even bothered washing up, dried blood still crusted on her pale skin. She turned to the side and Cullen could make out Pavus soothingly murmuring to her.

Cullen looked up at the questioning faces of the other officers. 

“Is she okay?” One of them mouthed. It was Vaughn. One of the men who’d followed him from Kirkwall, who’d been with him at Haven when this all began. One of the true believers in their cause.

He nodded, reassuringly, although he didn’t feel it at that moment.

“The Red Temp—” Trevelyan choked and he snapped his eyes back to the screen—“Templars, they… they infected the villagers. They harvested the red lyrium from their living bodies.”

Next thing he knew, Cullen was staring up at the sky and they could hear the sounds of the Inquisitor retching off camera. A coldness settled over him as he understood what she meant. From her report of what happened at Redcliffe, they knew that red lyrium would consume a person, take them over and twist them until they were mere shells of who they’d once been, but this… these were innocent people that the Red Templars were using.

“Holy Maker,” he muttered, his eyes meeting those of his officers in turn.

Pavus appeared on the screen. He didn’t look too well himself, but at least he was talking. “Commander, we’ve photos to send. Eve got those responsible.”

He directed the camera back toward Trevelyan who was solemn. “This isn’t a viable access point for the keep. As much as I’d love to cut every last one of these bastards down today, I can’t strike on my own. I’ll need reinforcements ASAP.”

“Understood, Inquisitor.”

“Cullen, before you hang up…” The use of his first name took him aback. He couldn’t remember the Inquisitor ever calling him by his given name without his rank. “We found a communication from Samson here. We’ll send it with the photos.” With that, Trevelyan had signed off and Cullen stared at a black screen.

Samson was still alive and he was still leading the Red Templars in their attacks against Thedas. He looked up at the officers standing around his desk, waiting to find out what happened next. “We’ll reconvene in an hour.” 

As they exited the room, an email came through from Trevelyan with the photos he was now staring at, unable to wrap his head around the atrocities these former templars had committed for some unholy alliance. They had walked out of the light and into the shadows, into an organization without a cause.

He didn’t know how long he’d been staring at the photos when a scout popped into his office. “The travelers from Val Royeaux have arrived.”

Cullen nodded in acknowledgment but didn’t move. He stared at the wall, lost in his own thoughts. After some time, the door to his left creaked open and he flicked his eyes over to see Nadine prowling toward him. 

Maker save him. 

He let out a loud breath. “What are you doing here, Nadine?”

She stopped in her tracks and frowned at him. “I thought that you might—”

“Save it. I’m not in the mood.”

She latched onto his careless phrasing. “So you might be later?”

“No, I’m not interested. Go find someone who is.”

“But I want you,” she purred as she came closer. 

He could smell her signature floral scent of lilies, images of their time together involuntarily making their way into his head. It was a clever trick, but Cullen wouldn’t fall for it this time. “No. I’ll say this again and again until you understand. I’m not interested.”

“Why not?” All flirtatiousness dropped from her voice and she was giving him a real frown now. “We were so good together.”

“Were. Past tense.” 

“But if you’re not seeing anyone—”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Well, the noble said that she wasn’t aware of whether or not you were, but—” 

Cullen cut her off again. “My business is my own, you know that.” 

“Then you are?” 

Cullen sighed, “It doesn't matter.” 

A knock on the door interrupted them. Nadine cast her eyes toward it as Cullen bade the person to enter. As soon as Karner laid eyes on Nadine, they darkened and her upper lip twitched in a sneer.

“Is this her?” Nadine icily asked, switching to Orlesian, as she shot a distasteful look towards the other woman. 

“That’s none of your concern,” Cullen replied in Common. 

“I suppose she’s pretty enough for a Fereldan dog,” Nadine ignored him, continuing in Orlesian as though he hadn’t spoken. “Do you fuck her like one too so you don’t have to look at her face?”

Cullen gaped at the hostility spewing out of Nadine’s mouth. Some of his soldiers had warned him back in Kirkwall, but until that moment he’d never seen that acrid side of her. 

“How much do you get paid to use that mouth?” Karner quipped. Her Orlesian was heavily accented, but clear.

Nadine rounded on her. “You speak Orlesian like an Antivan cow. How does it feel knowing I had him first and in ways you couldn’t even imagine?”

“Nadine, that’s enough,” Cullen interrupted, but it only drew her attention toward him.

“We were so good together,” she pleaded.

“No.”

“I can—”

“The man said no,” Karner interrupted.

“Shut up, dog.”

“I said enough!” Cullen clipped as Karner opened her mouth to respond. “Get out of my office, Nadine. Now.”

Nadine’s nostrils flared as she shot daggers with her eyes at the other woman before she turned and left.

“That was unworthy of you,” Cullen told Karner with a sigh.

She rolled her eyes, “Unworthy of _me_? She truly is a piece of work. I don’t know what you see in her.”

“She wasn’t like that when we were—”he winced—“together.”

Karner snorted at his careful choice of language, but her face quickly transformed into a mischievous one he knew well. “Were? So if it wasn’t her you were talking to last week...”

“Do not continue that thought,” he warned, but Karner impishly smiled. Karner had always gotten that look, ever since she was a child, before she and Rosey did something he wouldn't like. "Karner…"

Thankfully, his office door burst open and several other officers entered to continue the meeting he’d postponed. Karner gave him another look that told him this conversation was far from over.

***

The waning moon hung low in the sky as Ariana slipped out of her room into the darkness of the night. Her return to Skyhold had been hectic. Both Josephine and Leliana had monopolized her time, booking her in back-to-back meetings for the remainder of the day.

She hadn’t seen nor heard from Cullen at all since she’d arrived. They’d spoken several times while she was in Val Royeaux and every indication was that things were good, whatever _things_ were. 

But she’d noticed the way Nadine disappeared that morning as soon as they’d arrived. For the past several weeks, Ariana had tried not to think about the fact that the woman was Cullen’s ex, one of them at least, but it was hard not to compare herself when they spent so much time together. 

Nadine was breathtakingly beautiful, small and lithe, and could have stepped out of the paintings of the goddesses of Arlathan. Next to her, Ariana could see every flaw in her own too large, too curvy human body.

And she’d noticed the silence from Cullen. The unnerving silence that made her more and more uneasy as the day wore on. Which made the wait that night even more anxiety inducing than any of the others before it. She’d tried to find something to occupy her time as she willed the residents of Skyhold to bed, but it had been futile.

Ariana could feel the moment it was finally right for her to slip out and into the darkness, as though the frequency of Skyhold shifted, quelling her nerves as she tread the now familiar path to his office. 

The unlocked door silently swung open, the antiquated hinges well oiled now they were regularly used. The office was dark, the only light that of the moon that made its way through the thin windows. The unnerving silence of the day had settled over the night here, too. 

Something felt different tonight.

Finding her way to the ladder, she quietly climbed. The moonlight filtered in through the skylight over the ladder, bathing the room in it’s soft light. 

Ariana let out the breath she’d been holding at seeing Cullen spread out across his bed. Alone.

She slipped out of her clothes and under the covers next to him. He was on his stomach, arms clenched around his pillow. A frown was etched on his face, his brows deeply furrowed as he began to shake his head.

“No… no. No!” He twisted away from her, onto his back. Ariana sat up in surprise at his reaction, but his breathing evened into a slow rhythm and his face relaxed back into the face of a deep sleep. The memory of his lyrium flashback from Haven had her wondering whether or not she should try to find Solas. 

When his hand touched her cheek, she nearly screamed, not having noticed that he rolled into his side and opened his eyes, the amber dark in the moonlight.

“Is it you?” He asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“It’s me.”

“I… That’s what they all say,” he told her sadly, running his hand through her hair and down her back, pulling her flush against his body. “Tell me something only you know.”

Ariana glanced up toward the ceiling. The night sky was painted across it, as though the entire roof were glass and you could see straight to the cosmos. It was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen.

“A gift from a friend,” he’d told her when she asked about it. It reminded her of her own gift from that same friend. 

“For Satinalia, he gave me a photograph of my family. An old one I didn’t know existed. From a time when we were happy.”

The edges of Cullen’s lips lifted in a small smile. He let out a small sigh and laid his forehead against hers, stroking his hand back through her hair as he looked at her. “Thank you.” 

They laid there in silence. She watched his eyes flutter closed as sleep overtook him again, listened to the way his breaths lengthened and steadied as he drifted back to the Fade. She nestled more deeply into his arms, savoring the way his arms tightened around her even in sleep.

She woke to him mumbling panicked words. He was covered in the sheen of a cold sweat, his arms tight at his sides as his head thrashed back and forth on the pillow beside her.

“Cullen!” She sat up, her hand urgent at his shoulder as she tried to get his attention. 

He frowned again as he shook his head, the words falling out in mumbles, “I will stay strong…”

She reached her hand to his face to feel his forehead. It was heated. Ariana thought again about seeking out Solas. She hoped could trust the elven man to be discreet about how she came to find Cullen like this again.

She slid out of bed and into the bathroom, running cool water over a washcloth. She laid it on his forehead, hoping it would help cool him.

“Using my shame against me…” he mumbled, turning his head and sending the washcloth sliding down his face.

“Cullen, wake up,” she urged again, replacing the cloth. His arms clenched at his side as he shook his head again, fighting against whatever was happening in the Fade. When she wrapped her arm around him and held him tight against her, he stopped moving. 

As his heart loudly beat in her ear, his trembling stilled, and his breathing returned to an even cadence. She thought he was asleep again when he spoke, his voice cracking, “The Maker knows my sin.” 

Sleep did not come easily to her as his words echoed in her head. 

She knew pieces of his past. The snippets she’d heard in conversation and the pieces the others had let slip. But the only thing he’d ever said about his life before Kirkwall was that he’d been posted to the Fereldan Circle and he’d known the Hero of Ferelden there.

Again her thoughts returned to his lyrium flashback in Haven. She hadn’t asked him again about Solona or about Ferelden. There was more to that story that she hadn’t wanted to know. She still didn’t.

Ariana hadn’t expected him or the strength of what she felt with him. Initially, she’d wanted to hate him, to characterize him as the mage-hating templar he was supposed to be, to keep him at an arm’s length, but here she was against her better judgement. Her usual cautiousness disregarded as she continued to blow past the warning flags.

She listened to the sound of his breath and the way his heart beat in his chest. She listened to the silence of the room, beyond the warmth of the bed sheets wrapped around them. By the time sleep finally overtook her this time, even the moon had set, casting the room in complete darkness. 

When she woke, the first light of early morning had turned the room a pale grey. 

Cullen was already awake, head propped up on one hand watching her. His eyes were alert and bright, the amber shining despite the early hour. She stretched out, lifting her hands over her head and arching her body in a stretch. “What are you looking at?” 

“You.” He lifted his hand to her cheek. “You stayed.”

Her breath caught in her chest as he gazed at her. She knew that she was treading dangerous water with him. She shouldn’t have come last night. She shouldn’t have stayed. And yet… There was something here, something changing, something shifting. 

When he kissed her, his lips gently pressing against hers, she knew. When he pulled their bodies tightly together, she knew. When his hands explored the curves of her body, she knew. And when she came undone around him, his clear amber eyes stared straight into her soul and she lay there in his arms, their bodies tangled together in the afterglow, she knew she was hovering on the edge of the precipice. 

He might be ready to jump in headfirst, but Ariana wasn’t willing to jump with him. If she did, she might not make it out the other side this time.

But still, she let him pull her closer. She let herself forget the reasons she stayed as far from that ledge as she could. 

And if she wasn’t careful, she knew he’d pull her over. 

***

“It has come to my attention that Bann Trevelyan’s birthday is next week!” Josephine burst into the room, the excitement bubbling out of her. 

Cullen’s head snapped toward her from the stack of papers he’d been studying. “It is?”

“Prince Vael mentioned it in the latest communications he sent.” She held out her tablet toward him. “By the way, this is mostly about the reconstruction.”

“What day?” He hoped he was projecting a more casual tone than he felt as he reached out to grab hold of the tablet Josephine held out for him. He hadn’t even considered her birthday, especially so soon.

“Next Firesday!” Josephine exclaimed, “We must host a party, I’ll ask Lady Vivienne to—”

“That is inadvisable,” Leliana quietly interjected. The two of them turned to stare at her, seconds ticking by as they waited on her to elaborate.

“What do you know?” He asked at last, wondering where this resistance was coming from.

“Birthdays are not a happy time for the bann. I believe she would prefer to have it pass unnoticed.”

“We can’t do that!” Josephine lamented. “It’s the perfect opportunity to—”

“Josie, we must.” Leliana’s voice was firm. 

Cullen scanned the email from Sebastian as Josephine continued to press Leliana for flexibility. It did indeed say that Ariana’s birthday was the second of Guardian, but as a warning rather than an invitation to celebrate.

“Did you even read this, Ambassador?” He held the tablet back out to her. “It says specifically to ignore it.”

Josephine snatched her tablet, her eyes scanning the message. “But—” 

“No buts. If Sebastian says to ignore it, we ignore it.”

“Thank you, Cullen.” Leliana looked toward him. 

Cullen couldn’t help but wonder what she knew, but it was a question for another time. 

Josephine was attempting to be diplomatic about it, but the fact that the two of them had squashed her party-planning had put her in a less than chipper mood.

“Perhaps we could do a Wintersend festival instead?” He asked. 

Josephine’s eyes lit up and her hands clapped together with enthusiasm. Leliana gave him a sharp look.

“Commander, that is brilliant! Of course we should host a Wintersend festival. Not that we have much time, oh, I must speak with Bann Trevelyan—” 

“Not this time,” Leliana sharply interjected again.

“Then perhaps Lady Vivienne?” Josephine asked hopefully. 

Leliana nodded at the woman and relief flooded the ambassador’s face. Josephine tapped away on her tablet as she wandered out the door toward her office without another word.

Leliana turned to stare at him, the intensity of her gaze making him uncomfortable. “What?”

“Wintersend is even worse,” she sighed.

“Oh.” Cullen felt like a fool. He’d been trying to both improve the ambassador's mood while steering her away from celebrating Ariana’s birthday, but he’d managed to muddle things even further. “What… I mean, why?”

Leliana sighed, taking a slow breath in and back out. “I only know rumors…”

Cullen had to fight rolling his eyes at her. “You do intelligence. Rumors are your trade.”

“Not these rumors.” He narrowed his eyes at her. She lifted her eyebrows in response. “Tell me, how would you like me to share with anyone who asked what happened to you during the Blight?” 

He felt ice run through his veins at her words. As much as he’d tried to forget what happened at Kinloch Hold, she _had_ been there. She had seen him in one of his darkest moments and, as far as he knew, she had not spoken about it to anyone. At least, no one here at the Inquisition seemed to be aware.

“Point taken,” he sighed as he gathered up the papers he’d set down earlier when Josephine bounded back into the room, excitedly bouncing around the two of them.

“It’s all arranged!”

“Already?” Their ambassador never ceased to amaze him with her ability to pull together social engagements in such a short amount of time. 

“Yes, well, the invitations still have to go out, only to those near enough to travel, of course, and then we have to ensure we have enough space for the visitors. Oh! And food, oh goodness, the food!” Josephine ran back out the door she’d entered through mere moments before. 

Cullen gave Leliana a helpless look. “Well, I guess that’s settled then.”

“It would be a kindness if you could find some way to distract her.”

“I don’t think she’s able to be distracted from this.” 

“I meant Bann Trevelyan.”

“Oh?” Cullen lifted his eyebrows. “What kind of distraction?”

Leliana dismissively waved her hand at him as she bent over the war table and stared at the map. “Whatever it is you do.” Cullen stared at Leliana until she looked up at him. “What?” 

“What do you mean by that?” He asked.

“I don't know, play chess or teach her war theory. She may surprise you.” 

“That she does.”

One of Leliana's eyebrows lifted. “Does she now?”

“Leliana, stop that.” 

“Stop what?” She asked, her eyes widening in faux innocence. 

“She is not what I expected from a noble. That is all. Now, can we discuss our next steps in the Emprise?”

***

Leliana had been right. As the Wintersend festival preparations progressed, Ariana became more and more withdrawn. He'd hardly seen her since that night she'd held him through the nightmares of what the mages had done at Kinloch Hold. Combined with the photos from Sahrnia Quarry of what the former templars, many of them once his friends, had done… The world had gone mad. Had Hawke not had the strength to stand up to his knight-commander in Kirkwall, he might be walking the same path with the Templar Order.

The nightmares picked up on his internal struggle and they haunted him. But Ariana didn’t flee like most of the women who’d seen that side of him. She’d held him through it, like a safe harbor protecting a ship through the storm. Even more, she’d still been there in the morning.

He was moved by the way she didn’t fear the shards of darkness within him.

The sun was already working its way back toward the horizon when Cullen left his office. When the sun finally set, the festival would begin. Since Wintersend coincided with the Marcher welcoming of spring, he expected her to be as near to the awakening earth as she could manage here in the mountains.

She was in the garden as he expected, but sitting on a bench. The stillness of her frame, the unseeing way with which her eyes stared out at the activity around her… Even Leliana’s warning hadn't prepared him for the shell of a woman that now sat in front of him. He kneeled down in front of her, bringing his face as even with hers as he could. “Bann?” 

Her grey eyes were slow to shift, but they finally focused on him. He couldn’t find the words to tell her how much she meant to him. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, to tell her it would all be okay. But whatever demons lay inside, she’d decided they were hers and hers alone. She’d never shared them with him. Not that he could blame her. He hadn’t shared all of his with her either. Talking wasn’t exactly what either of them had in mind when they were together.

He took her other hand in his, brushing his rough thumb over her fingers before lifting them to his lips, pressing a feather-light kiss on her fingertips. “Walk with me?”

She slowly nodded, allowing him to pull her to her feet and tuck her arm in his as they walked. When they arrived at the main gate, she looked up at him, a minimally curious look on her face. Some color had returned to her skin, a shade closer to the golden glow of summer he’d come to associate with her. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

“I have… ah, an idea. But we have to go to the forward camp.”

She frowned. “That far?”

“We can be back before the festival starts, if you’d like.”

Ariana shook her head and began walking across the stone bridge. They could have driven, but Cullen had guessed, correctly it seemed, that she would prefer to avoid the festival altogether. Most people were headed toward Skyhold for the festival, so by the time they arrived at the forward camp it was deserted.

He led her toward the river. Chunks of ice still floated in it, but the spring melt hadn’t yet made it the raging river he knew it would soon become. He made a mental note to move the tents that dotted the water’s edge back further away before the spring thaw. 

As they approached the river, she gave him another confused look. “What are we doing here?”

He pulled several ribbons out of his pocket. Leliana had been loathe to part with the pretty Orlesian silks, but Cullen bribed her with a promise to procure double from the best shops in Orlais. He wasn’t sure how he’d pull that off, but he’d figure it out. Ariana was worth whatever the cost.

At the sight of the ribbons, recognition dawned in her eyes. She looked around and noticed the winter-bare trees nearby. When her eyes met his, they were filled with gratitude. “You remembered.”

Cullen pulled a small pack and a towel out of a nearby tent. “I also thought you might like to take the opportunity to…” Cullen awkwardly trailed off, unsure of how to phrase the next part.

Ariana took the pack and looked inside. Her eyes slid over to the towel and then back up at him. She glanced around at the empty camp. When her eyes met his again, a hint of mischief played in them. The relief he felt at seeing that tiny bit of life washed over him.

“Did you do all this so you could see me naked?” She teased.

Cullen could feel the blush spreading across his face. “That’s not what—Maker, no!”

“I’m only teasing.” She stepped forward and pressed a light kiss to his lips. “Could you start a bonfire? It’ll be rather cold by the time I’m done.”

He’d gathered a pile of wood in anticipation of this request and he immediately set to work getting the fire started. The sun was hovering near the horizon and they had very little time.

Ariana changed into the simple clothing he’d brought down. He’d seen her wearing a simple cotton dress for midwinter, but he hadn’t managed to find one at any of the merchants, so he’d done the best he could. He’d brought one of his cotton shirts and a pair of natural woolen trousers he’d found abandoned in the barracks lost and found.

She emerged from the tent wearing only his shirt, the hem hovering around her upper thighs. But he didn’t move from building the fire. Instead, he turned his attention back to encouraging the small flame to spread into the larger pieces of wood. He didn’t know what she was grappling with related to Wintersend, but he would follow her lead. He heard a small splash followed by a sharp intake of breath as she stepped into the river, still ice cold. 

As the fire grew, the sun sank below the mountains and a chill spread throughout the valley. Cullen brought out the blanket he’d stashed in the tent, expecting her to need it even with the roaring fire. When he was done, he turned to check on her. Ariana was waist deep in the water, facing away from him in the direction the sun would rise tomorrow, with her hands lifted as she prayed. Or invoked. Or whatever it was Marchers did when they practiced their traditional beliefs.

With a soft splash, Ariana slid under the water for several moments. When she surfaced, Cullen couldn’t help but notice the way the wet fabric clung to her body. He turned away, not wanting her to feel like he had some ulterior motive. He sat on a small rock and poked at the fire, focusing on the way the flames danced amongst the dead wood while she tied the water-soaked ribbons to the nearest tree.

Cullen heard her footsteps as she padded to the tent to change. He watched the ribbons fluttering with each gust of wind, thinking of the way she’d tied ribbons into the trees of the Frostbacks after Haven as a trail for her sister. He was still thinking about their journey to Skyhold when her arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind. “Thank you.”

His hands lifted to her arms, still damp from the river, giving them a light squeeze. “Of course.”

She kept her hands on his shoulders as she stepped around him to stand in front of him. He realized she hadn’t changed. She'd only stripped off the wet clothes and wrapped the towel around her.

“You must be freezing.” He reached for the blanket that he’d brought. 

She stilled his hand. “Are you serious right now? I’m half naked in front of you and you’re worried that I’m freezing?”

“Yes! It’s winter in the Frostbacks. You need a coat!” He grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. The frown she gave him in response was not what he expected. “This really wasn’t about… that. I don’t know what’s going on, but I… I didn’t want…”

“And if I told you I _want_ you to make—um, have me right here by this river?”

“Then I’m yours.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Mention of past abuse, self-harm, and suicide attempt

She sat on the floor of her room, listening to the silence of Skyhold. Wintersend had been another epic festival, the second in less than a month, and the following two days had been slow even by Orlesian standards. 

Hawke's text from that morning told her where to locate the bottle of special blend whiskey the woman had hidden in her room. It was a close as anyone had gotten to wishing her a happy birthday, although Josephine looked physically ill with the avoidance. She knew it wasn’t in the Antivan woman’s nature to let an important date slip by, but someone had warned her.

She held the bottle up toward the light, watching the amber liquid swirl around inside. The color was deeper than Cullen’s eyes, more of a warm brown than the golden amber she found herself lost in more and more when they were together.

He’d distracted her from the festivities and given her an outlet to keep the memories at bay. At least, the evening of the festival’s beginning. On Wintersend proper, she stayed locked in her room and gave herself the permission to remember.

She’d been so young when she met Lachlan, heir apparent of Starkhaven. His fawn brown hair and sky blue eyes had swept her off her feet the first time they’d met. In the years that followed, he had been her first everything. Their families had been thrilled they’d taken to each other so quickly and, for her mother in particular, delighted that their union would further strengthen their dominance of the Free Marches. 

She wondered what would have happened if the events of that Wintermarch had not taken place. If Lachlan had arrived to Southwatch on Wintersend, celebrated her fifteenth birthday, and they’d married as planned. 

Would they have stayed as desperately in love as their teenage selves believed? Or would the passing of the years have brought with them the complacency she so often saw in other relationships? Would he have fallen out of love with her? Would he have stayed with her because it was expected, both by their people and by the Chantry?

It had been eleven years since his murder and while she no longer actively mourned his loss, every year as the earth was reborn, her body remembered on her behalf.

But this year, instead of those around her leaving her to wallow in her own self pity, there was Cullen. The very much alive man who adored her. He’d given her a kindness she didn’t even realize she’d needed as he pulled her out of her own dark thoughts and back into the world of the living.

“Your move, Trevelyan,” she muttered as she stood. She pulled on a coat, tucked the whiskey under her arm, and hurried out into the darkness. 

It was all too familiar now: the well-worn path to his office, knowing exactly where to walk to avoid any curious eyes; the quiet knock on the door; the soft creak as she pushed it open; and Cullen sitting behind his large wooden desk, papers strewn about, laptop precariously perched on top, and hand running through his golden locks as he attempted to make sense of it all. 

On this night he looked up as she entered, a small smile on his lips in greeting. She pushed the door closed behind her before she pulled the bottle out from under her arm and held it up. “Feel like a drink?”

“I would like that. What’s the occasion?” A look of panic briefly passed over his face after the words came out.

“It’s my birthday.” His eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but she held up her hand to stop him. “No, don’t wish me a happy one. Birthdays are anything but happy for me.” 

She removed her coat and tossed it over a chair. He bent down to pull two glasses out of a drawer as she settled onto a corner of his desk. He held them out as she pulled the cork out of the bottle. 

“Usually I prefer to be alone, but I find that I could use some company tonight.” She poured several fingers of the warm, brown liquid into each of the two glasses. She handed him one of the glasses and held hers out toward him. 

“His equal will never be among us again,” she toasted.

She downed the whiskey, setting her glass down on the desk. He leaned back in his chair, sipping his. She’d initially been surprised at seeing him drinking whiskey—most Fereldans couldn’t stand it—but she was thrilled that it was another thing they could enjoy together. 

She grabbed the bottle and gave herself another pour. 

Cullen swirled the liquid around in his glass, studying it for a moment before he took a deep inhale. “Would this be Hawke’s?”

Ariana widened her eyes in surprise. “You know about Hawke’s blend? Yet another surprise from our Fereldan commander. She only shares that with her people.”

“Maybe I’m her people.”

“You most certainly are,” she told him and he blushed. Oh, how that delighted her. 

“It was nice to have a friend. Being Ferelden in the Free Marches was no easy task.” He gave her a lopsided smile, the scarred corner of his mouth lifting. “But after almost ten years in Kirkwall, I suppose you could say I’m one-third Marcher.”

"Oh, so now you're a Marcher?" She laughed, one eyebrow playfully lifting. “I think not. You, ser, are _all_ Fereldan. Remind me where you’re from?”

“Near Redcliffe. A small farm outside of Honnleath.”

“Honnleath... wasn’t that one of the villages we drove by when we visited the former refugees?”

He smiled, “There was a sign for it, but it’s a bit off the main thoroughfare.”

“And you grew up on a farm?" She playfully slapped his upper arm. "You should have helped with the garden! You can help this year.”

Cullen laughed at her enthusiasm. “I had no talent to be a farmer. I’m afraid I won’t be much use there.”

“So instead of farming, you joined the Templars?”

“I could think of no better calling than to protect those in need,” he shrugged and sipped his drink. “I used to beg the templars at our local chantry to teach me. At first they merely humored me, but I must have shown promise. Or at least a willingness to learn. The knight-captain spoke to my parents on my behalf. They agreed to send me for training. I was thirteen when I left home.”

“Thirteen? That’s how old Evelyn was when the Templars took her.” And the age when Ariana had become Bann of Southwatch.

She finished off her glass and he stared down into his. Ariana watched as he swirled the whiskey inside of it. When he finally looked back up at her, his eyes were conflicted.

The silence lengthened until she finally spoke, “We stopped celebrating my birthday after my sister was taken. It was the day before I turned ten.” She picked up the bottle of whiskey, pouring herself another glass. “So now you know why birthdays are not happy for me.”

Cullen watched her heavy-handed pour and held out his glass to her for a top up. When she’d finished, he asked, “Who is he?”

“Hmmm?” 

Cullen was staring into his glass as he spoke, “Earlier you said, ‘His equal will never be among us again.’ I wondered who you meant.” He looked up, straight into her eyes. 

She gazed at him even as the emotions roiled within her. Part of her screamed to stop this conversation, to end it before it went any further and any deeper, but the other half of her felt safe. She wanted to trust him with this. She’d not told anyone at Skyhold what happened, not even her sister, although she expected that at least the spymaster would be aware of the events that had transpired in her youth. And of course, anyone from Starkhaven. And she was tired of bearing that burden alone.

“Do you really want to know?” 

“Of course, but only if… that is, if you want to tell me.”

Ariana hesitated a moment longer before she forced the words through her lips. The rawness of her voice caught as she told him, “My betrothed. He was murdered on Wintersend.”

She couldn’t look him in the eye, not wanting to see the pity there, instead lifting her glass toward him, focusing her eyes over his shoulder. 

“_Slàinte mhath_!” She downed her drink again in one fell swoop, setting it down on the desk beside her. 

He stared at her with wide, concerned eyes. “Ariana, I—”

“No. I don’t want to talk about Lachlan. It’s been eleven years. It may have felt like the end of the world, but it was not. Clearly, I’m still alive. By the Maker’s blessing or curse, I still haven’t figured out which.” 

She poked her glass toward him with her fingertips. He eyed her a moment before shaking his head. She reached for the glass, but knocked it over in her uncoordinated drunkenness. Cullen shifted the bottle of whiskey out of her reach before picking up the downed glass. She attempted to stand up, but almost fell over as the effects of the whiskey hit her. 

Cullen leapt up, wrapping his arms around her waist, supporting her.

“Mmmm, you smell so nice…” She buried her head in his chest, feeling the chuckle rumble through it.

“Why, Bann Trevelyan, I do think you are drunk.”

“Nope.”

“If I recall, Hawke’s stuff is more potent than your average whiskey. You’re lucky you’re even awake right now.”

“Mmm, then take me to bed?” 

She was rewarded with another chuckle. “All right, here we are, up the ladder. I’ll be right behind you.”

Ariana struggled up the ladder, slipping out of her dress and diving into the bed. “Come to bed.”

She snuggled deeply into the cover, putting on the most sultry face she could muster as she watched him undress. She was disappointed when he did not remove his trousers, climbing into bed beside her wearing them. 

She tugged at the waistband as he slid under the covers beside her. “Take these off.”

“No,” he grasped her wrists, pinning her arms between them as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. She pouted, squirming out of his arms to run her hands down his back.

“Go to sleep,” he murmured into her hair.

“You don’t want me?”

“Tomorrow. Right now I need sleep.”

“You don’t sleep.”

“Tonight I do. Go to sleep.” 

***

Cullen woke early when the sun began to rise. Ariana was sprawled out across the bed next to him, her long hair spread across both their pillows and one arm lifted up over her head.

For a few moments, he watched her sleep. As much as he’d hoped and prayed, he knew his time with her had already been pre-measured. Even so, she’d trusted him with another piece of herself last night, a piece that he would protect and cherish.

He slipped out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, filling up a glass of water and pulling out some medication, hopefully it would lessen her hangover. He laid them out on the nightstand next to her and pulled the covers up to keep her warm. She shifted as he did and Cullen noticed something on the arm she'd flung over her head.

He reached to brush it off when he realized the hashtag of thin white lines that ran across and along her forearm were scars, pale against the golden skin. He turned her other arm over to find identical scars.

He knew exactly what they meant. 

Cullen stepped back and stared at her, her breathing heavy as she slept. His mind was in overdrive as thoughts bounced around and he reached to grab hold of anything. They’d been together for more than two months and this was the first time he’d noticed the scars. They were old, that much was obvious, as they’d faded with time. But he’d never even noticed them before. What did that say about _him_?

He descended down to this office and began his morning ritual of making coffee as he turned the thoughts over in his head. For as long as he’d known her, he’d never seen her in short sleeves. There was the signature blazer, the long-sleeved dresses, even the long-sleeved workout clothes… 

But he’d also seen her naked. Countless times. Although... it was usually in darkness or low light. She’d always left before the sun rose, or in the rare cases she didn’t, she must have been careful to dress before he could notice them. Or he was too busy staring at other parts of her body to notice her arms. 

“What a fool,” he muttered to himself as he poured coffee into a mug.

“Why’s that?” Ariana’s voice cut through his thoughts. He spun around, hot coffee sloshing over the rim onto his hand.

“Ow!” He set the mug down and wiped his hand across his trousers.

Ariana was fully dressed in her clothes from the night before. Another long-sleeved dress, this one cut low with a high slit to reveal her thigh whenever she moved. Now that he knew what she was doing, he couldn't help but notice most of her clothes had clever ways of drawing the eye away from where she didn’t want people to look. 

She crossed the room toward the coffee pot. “Why were you talking to yourself?” She poured herself a cup and took a sip, dropping her head back and closing her eyes in relief. 

Cullen didn't respond as he watched her. She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Well?” 

“There’s something we need to talk about,” he told her.

She took another sip of her coffee and stepped toward him, setting her mug down next to his. “Right now?” She ran her hands along his bare chest, up toward his face, pressing her hips into him. 

As she did, he grabbed one wrist and flipped it over, sliding his hand down her arm to reveal the scars.

Ariana’s back became ramrod straight as all playfulness fell from her face. She tugged her wrist, but he had a firm grasp on her arm. “Let me go.” 

“Ariana...” The words died on his lips as her grey eyes met his. Her eyes contained a cold sharpness he hadn’t seen in months. 

“I said, ‘Let me go’.” 

He immediately dropped her arm. 

She stepped away from him and tugged her sleeve back down over her wrist. “Don’t misunderstand that what’s happened between us means something. I came here last night because I enjoy fucking you. That’s it.”

Cullen reeled back at her rebuke. She turned and, without so much as a backwards glance, walked out of his office.

***

Ariana walked out of Cullen’s office looking far stronger than she felt inside at that moment. She’d given him an inch and he’d tried to take a mile. 

As soon as she’d made it back to her room, she’d fallen apart. That piece of her that she’d worked so hard to protect, to keep anyone from knowing… there was no hiding it now.

He would pity her, if he didn’t already. He had to know what the scars meant. Along with the pity would come the special treatment. Like she was fragile and might crack apart at any moment. It always happened. But most of all, she couldn’t stomach the rejection that followed. Not from him.

Ariana turned her phone off in frustration when she noticed the notification of a text from him. 

She stepped into the shower and let the water wash over until it ran cold. When she exited the shower, someone was banging on her door. 

“Ari dear, are you there?” Dorian called.

“One moment!” Ariana slipped into a silk robe and flung open the door. Dorian was leaning against the wall. 

“Please tell me you have wine! I almost died after a month in the Emprise. Their wine is simply undrinkable.” She tried to smile as he pushed past and into her room. “Your sister has had a rough go of it, too.”

“What happened?” She asked, squeezing her hair with a towel.

“Oh it was ghastly, the things those dirty templars were doing.” He bent down to rifle through one of her cabinets. “You haven’t noticed anything… weird with our commander have you? How I would hate to lose such delicious eye candy.”

Ariana tilted her head at him. “What are you talking about, Dorian?”

He stopped digging through her cabinet and stood up to face her. “Seriously, where is your wine?”

She frowned at him, but walked to her wardrobe and pulled out a bottle of Imperium wine. “Oh you are a Makersend!” He gave her an extravagant kiss on the cheek before he started searching for a bottle opener.

Ariana watched him for several minutes. Once he’d gotten the bottle open, she helped him out by directing him to the wine glasses. “Now will you explain what’s going on?”

“You might want to sit down for this one.”

So she did. For the next several hours, as the bottle of wine grew emptier and emptier, Dorian told her the story of the Red Templars in the Emprise. He told her of the quarry, of Suledin Keep, and of what had happened to the village of Sahrnia. Ariana felt more and more horrified with each passing story. She couldn't believe that was he was saying was true. But it was, she knew it was. As prone as Dorian was to hyperbolize, he wouldn't lie about it.

“Eve was worried about how Cullen might react once she sent those photos, especially the letter from Samson, but as far as we could tell out there, everything was fine.”

“Photos?”

“Of the red lyrium quarry. It was ghastly, please don’t make me talk about it anymore.”

When Dorian finally stumbled to his room next door, Ariana turned her phone back on and read the text Cullen had sent her that morning. 

> _C_: I'm sorry.

There weren't any others from him, despite the hours of silence. She left the message on read and headed to the dining hall for dinner.

Her sister was sitting just inside the door next to Cassandra. She caught sight of Ariana as she entered. “Over here, Ari!”

She noticed the back of Cullen’s head on the other side of her sister at the head of the table. He turned and their eyes connected. Ariana willed her face to stay neutral as he regarded her. 

He turned back to Evelyn, pushing himself up from his chair, “I should be going.”

“Have a seat,” Evelyn told him. Cullen sat back down. 

Evelyn indicated Ariana should sit at the table next to Cullen. She tried not to look at him as she sat down, watching him from the side of his eye. Evelyn frowned as she looked between them.

“Good evening, Commander,” Ariana stiffly said, noticing the concerned look forming on her sister’s face. 

Cullen turned toward her in surprise and gave her a nod. “Bann Trevelyan.”

Evelyn cast another cautious look between the two of them. “How was the Wintersend festival? I am sorry to have missed it. And your birthday.” Evelyn gave her a tight smile. Ariana could see the pain flicker through her eyes. She didn't know which memories caused it: the old or the fresh. Thoughts of the past days flowed through her. The river, the birthday, the argument… She hesitated, unsure of what to say.

“It was eventful, wouldn’t you agree, Seeker?” Cullen cut in, addressing Cassandra.

“Yes, quite,” she responded. “Although not quite to the level of First Day’s Eve, but there were several Orlesians who...” Cassandra looked around conspiratorially and dropped her voice lower to tell Evelyn the story. Her sister’s eyes widened as Cassandra talked.

Cullen shifted in his seat to fix his gaze on Ariana. She gave him a small smile, “Thank you for that.”

“Talk to me.”

“Is that not what we’re doing?”

“You know it’s not. Meet me later, in the chapel.” 

Ariana lifted her eyebrows at the location. “The chapel?”

Cassandra raised her voice, “You’ll have to ask Varric for the full version, he can tell it much better than I.”

Evelyn let out a brief huff of laughter and turned to the two of them. “Did either of you see that?”

“Sorry, I didn’t hear the story,” Ariana apologetically smiled at her sister. “Please excuse me, I should locate some food before it all disappears. I’ll see you later?”

“That would be lovely,” Evelyn attempted another smile as Ariana stood. “Maybe we could try that new Orlesian thing tomorrow… morning lunch?”

“Brunch,” Ariana told her. “I’ll have it set up in your quarters. See you tomorrow.”

She let her eyes connect with Cullen’s and gave the briefest of nods before she made her way toward the front of the room.

***

Cullen was already in the chapel when she arrived, kneeling in front of the statue of Andraste. The room was dark as the only place that had been untouched by modernization of the fortress. The candelabras they’d found in the room were now filled with glowing candles, but their light only went so far.

His relief at her arrival was almost palpable and the tension in the air released almost as soon as she entered the room. He didn’t stir as she approached, but she could tell he was tracking her movement out of the side of his eye.

She sat down on one of the benches that lined the room. Her sister had decided to leave the space in front of the statue of Andraste free of any impediments, but agreed to putting some seating in for those who couldn’t kneel on the bare ground for hours on end.

As she settled in, he softly spoke, “Thank you for coming.” 

“Why are we in the chapel?”

“It’s private.” He leaned back against his heels and stood, turning to face her. “It’s Satinaday, so I knew it would be empty. And I thought it might deter… Maker, every time I’m around you all I can think about is… well, you know.”

“Fucking me?”

He clenched his fists and dropped them to his side, looking down at the ground in front of him. “Yes.”

“You didn't want to last night.”

“You'd been drinking. You were… I wasn’t...” He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “It didn't seem right.” 

Ariana pressed her lips together and looked away. “I know. You wanted to talk.”

“Yes.”

“Then how about a truth for a truth—”she crossed her arms and evenly held his gaze—“your darkest secret in exchange for mine.”

Cullen’s eyes snapped up to hers. “Is that what you want?” 

She pulled her sleeves up and held up her arms. “You wanted to know. In return, I want to know what happened in Ferelden.”

He shook his head. “I can’t bear the thought of you hating me.”

She studied him. “Is that how people usually react?”

He shrugged, remaining silent.

“Have you never talked about it?”

He shook his head again. No wonder he was so wound up. Whatever it was, he’d kept it inside for more than a decade.

“Well, while you worry about that, know that when I’m done you’ll want to leave me. No one wants to be with someone so broken. So if you’re ready to finish what you started…” She gestured for him to sit down on the bench next to her. 

He pressed his lips together and looked as though he might not agree, but he sat down beside her, turning to face her.

“Do you know anything about House Trevelyan?” She asked.

“What I read in the report. And Googled.”

“Then you know about the Chantry connection. Part of that is that younger Trevelyans often serve the Chantry in some way or another. But my mother wasn’t normal.” Ariana shook her head and looked down at her hands, twisting them together as she remembered her mother forcing her to memorize lineages or practice being a good wife when she was only a child. “Most people blamed it on her Tevene heritage, but it was more. There was something… not right about her. I knew it even then.”

She glanced over at him to see him watching her hands. She clasped them together and continued, “No child of hers would go to the Chantry. It would be a wasted opportunity for the family legacy. As the younger daughter, she saw it as my duty to unite the Trevelyan name with a more powerful noble family. To marry above my station.”

“But you’re already a bann.”

Ariana gave a mirthless laugh. “Not good enough. She thought her daughter should be royalty. An emperor or king would have been her preference, but she’d have taken a prince or a teyrn… even an arl or a duke would be a step up for us.”

Cullen frowned as Ariana continued, “When Evelyn’s magic manifested, it changed everything. I was no longer simply the spare, but rather the sole heir of the Trevelyan estate and lineage.”

“You were a child.”

She grimaced. “Any childhood I had was taken by the Templars when they took Evelyn.”

“Taken? Ariana,” he sighed. “Templars aren’t perfect, but they didn’t _take_ her.”

“Agree to disagree on that one,” she told him. “But it was my fault. If I hadn’t begged her to sneak out with me, they never would have known she was a mage. She’d learned to control it.”

“How was that—”

“I don’t know, it was remarkable.”

“No, I meant it being your fault, but she taught herself to control her magic?”

“Somehow, yes.”

Cullen shook his head. “Maker’s breath, she’s terrifying.”

“I know. But because of that, I became Bann of Southwatch when I was thirteen. If it weren’t for old friends of the family in Starkhaven, I don’t know what would have become of me. They helped me learn how to manage the estate and the intricacies of Thedosian politics.”

“The Vaels?” Cullen asked.

“Yes. We were close, as close as any not bound by blood. Not yet anyway. The last thing my mother did before she died was negotiate a marriage contract.” Ariana shook her head at the memory of her mother. “Luckily, I’d taken a liking to the boy they'd picked out. And him, me.” 

Cullen quietly asked, “Your betrothed?”

“Lachlan Vael.” Ariana stared at the statue of Andraste, lapsing into silence as the memories swarmed through her. Cullen patiently waited until she continued, “The Vaels were murdered. A desire demon I was told. Sebastian is the only one who survived and only because he was in Kirkwall.”

Cullen frowned at the mention of Kirkwall. “At the start of the Fifth Blight?”

“Wintersend of 31. Hawke avenged their murders for us. That’s how we met. That’s how they met.” She let out a slow breath. “Lachlan was to celebrate my birthday with me and then we’d finally be formally betrothed. He never arrived.”

“I’m sorry…” He reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers. “How old were you?”

“Fifteen. Instead of our engagement party, I attended his funeral.”

“Is that why you don’t celebrate your birthday?”

“The part about Evelyn is true. But Lachlan made it worse.” She took a long breath as he squeezed her hand. “I thought he was the love of my life. His death hit me hard. I’d lost my sister, my parents, my second family, and my love. And then...” She laid her arms on her legs with her palms up, Cullen’s hand still wrapped in one of hers. He tightened his grip. “Sebastian came to care for me. That's when he had to ask for help from Hawke, but he could only do so much. He sent me to Val Royeaux to convalesce.”

“Why Val Royeaux?” Cullen gently asked.

“To get me out of the Marches. The media was scathing. The things they said about me… like it was my fault the Vaels were murdered.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Not even an enemy. Most of it’s been scrubbed now due to laws about minors, but if you ask anyone from Starkhaven, they’ll remember. Besides, Val Royeaux has the sea. Good for the soul or something.”

“The sea is?”

“Apparently, but it was more the clinic than the sea itself. I got the help I needed there and… Well, it's always a part of you, isn't it? At least... it's a part of me.” Ariana sighed as she ran the fingers of her other hand down the bold scars on her forearm, crossing the thinner, paler ones perpendicular to them. “These scars marked me. Sometimes I feel like I'll never be free of them. Of a decision I made more than a decade ago.”

“Ariana...”

“Don't you see? It's not what I've done, that is what it is, but rather that I'll be forever defined by it. People feel compelled to, I don't know, _protect_ me once they know. Like I'll crack again under any amount of pressure. That's why I don't tell anyone.”

They sat in silence, his hand tightly wrapped around hers, until Cullen let out a slow breath. “Because of how people will treat you?”

She disengaged her hand from his and slid her sleeves back down to cover the scars. “Yes. I am more than one decision made in a desperate moment.”

He reached for her again. “You are.”

She shook her head at him. He would treat her differently now that he knew, but she appreciated that he was trying. “Your turn. Tell me about Ferelden.” 

He sighed. “All right… Well, I was at Kinloch Hold, that's Ferelden’s Circle, during the Blight. The tower was untouched by darkspawn, but…” His throat rippled as he swallowed, “We were overrun by abominations. Blood mages from within the tower itself. If not for Solona, I would have been dead. I… I had…” Sweat was beading on his face as he let out a slow breath. “She was a mage in the Circle before—well, I had an… infatuation with her.” 

Ariana closed her eyes. She’d known they were in the same tower and... she’d seen the way he looked at her when he’d thought she was Solona. The swallow that made its way down her throat sounded loud in her ears, she didn’t want to know. She regretted asking.

“It was inappropriate and I… I never acted on it, but the demons used it against me. To tempt me, to break my mind.” He scratched at his forearm and took several steadying breaths. “When she came back the tower as a Grey Warden, she found me. It had been Maker only knows how long that I had watched the abominations kill my fellow Templars, my friends. I lived and they died.”

Ariana watched him as he stared straight ahead at the statue at the front of the room. The anguish in his eyes was something she had never seen before. It was the look of a man who had seen too much, so much more than one mortal should ever be expected to bear.

“Some of the things I said to her that day were unforgivable. I’ve never forgiven myself.”

“Cullen...”

“You don’t understand,” he interrupted, shaking his head with an urgency in his voice. The pain was still there, but intermixed was a new look. Shame. “I asked her—no, I _begged_ her to annul the Circle. The entire thing.”

“What?” Ariana jerked back from him in surprise. That was as bad as every rumor she’d ever heard about it, if not more. The rumors she'd heard said he didn't stop his knight-commander from ordering a circle annulled, not that he himself had.

“Thank the Maker, cooler heads prevailed—Solona was compassionate to a fault sometimes—but those things you heard of me in Kirkwall… They were true. The Templars sent me there a broken man and, well, you know the rest.” 

His gaze was distant, staring unfocused at the statue in front of them as Ariana grappled with what he’d told her. It was horrifying, yes, but... he’d been young. And as she was no longer the girl she had been ten years ago, she knew the man that he had been in those days bore no resemblance to the man he was now.

He turned back toward her, anguish and shame spread across his beautiful features. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Can you ever forgive yourself?”

“No.” He hung his head. “There’s some that don’t deserve it.”

“Cullen, that was more than ten years ago.”

“I cannot forget.”

“That’s not what I mean. I don’t… I mean, you are not that man anymore.”

Cullen stared down at his feet as they lapsed into silence, each consumed by the weight of their own thoughts. Ariana noticed the stars had shifted outside the large glass window. Her back was stiff from the wooden bench and the coldness of the Guardian night had permeated the cold stone of the fortress.

Ariana gently laid her hand on Cullen’s arm. He blinked several times before slowly turning to face her. His eyes were like a mirror to her soul. The feeling of trepidation, of wondering what would come next, of needing to know if they could move past this were all reflected in his eyes. “It’s nearing dawn. Maybe we should go.”

“All right.” He lifted his hand to her face and gazed into her eyes. “You’re not broken.”

She wrapped her hand around his wrist as she gazed back. “And you, Cullen Rutherford, are a good man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Slàinte mhath_ \- (Gàidhlig) Cheers (lit. good health)


	24. Chapter 24

He'd been distracted for days. He couldn't live like this, couldn't command an army like this. Surely someone had noticed, someone _had_ to have noticed. Where was Cassandra? She promised that she would replace him. Promised. And she was nowhere, not now, now when he needed it the most.

He couldn’t do this. His veins itched, he scratched at them, nails drawing blood on his forearms, begging to feel the release the lyrium brought. 

He wasn't sure what was real, what was happening here in the waking world or was it all in the Fade? The memories of Kinloch Hold and Kirkwall, the knowledge of what Templars had done in the Emprise du Lion and across Thedas… it suffocated his resolve.

He couldn't live, couldn't breathe without her. She was his safe harbor, his warm fire on a cold winter’s night, his light in the darkness. He was drowning without her, lost at sea, rocky shores luring him in. 

He couldn’t do this. If only he were stronger. Better. More worthy. He never should have allowed it to get this far. What a fool. What an absolute fool he had been. 

Had it ever been real? Or was it all some sick trick of the desire demon, sifting through his thoughts, tempting him with his deepest desire, laying it bare for the world to see. Shaming him for the thoughts of his desire for what he could never truly have.

_If only… if only_, he thought as he lifted the philter of blue liquid to the waning sunlight, watched the swirling blue liquid calling his name without making a noise. 

Just this once. 

Just to tide himself over, to help him through… 

Disgusted, he dropped the phial back in the box and threw it across the room, a growl erupting from his throat. It smashed against the wall before he noticed the Inquisitor’s horrified face in the doorway. 

"Maker's breath! I didn't hear you enter, I—forgive me."

“So long as you weren’t aiming at me, I’m sure the box had it coming.” Trevelyan tried to give him an encouraging smile, but it came out like a grimace.

"I swear, I didn't know you were—” He collapsed against the desk with a groan, the need, the desperation sapping his will to move. "I never meant for this to interfere."

"Are you going to be all right?"

"Yes. I don't know.” He shook his head. "You asked once what happened to Ferelden’s Circle. It was taken over by abominations. The templars—my _friends_—were slaughtered. I was tortured. They tried to break my mind, and I—” 

He squeezed his eyes closed, the memories that he’d tried so hard to supress, to force back down inside of him, flared up again within him, the visions of his friends and what magic had done to them. 

Ariana had asked, she had wanted to know… and that damage was irreparable.

“How can you be the same person after that?” 

The Inquisitor stepped toward him but he held up a hand to stop her. Her magic flared slightly in response.

“Still, I wanted to serve. They sent me to Kirkwall. I trusted my knight-commander, and for what? Her fear of mages ended in madness. Kirkwall's Circle fell. Innocent people died in the streets. Can't you see why I want nothing to do with that life?"

“Of course I can, I—” Trevelyan started.

"Don’t!” He was shouting now, something he knew better than to do at her, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t control it. “You should be questioning what I've done. I thought this would be better—that I would regain some control over my life. But these thoughts won't leave me... How many lives depend on our success? I swore myself to this cause... I will not give less of myself to the Inquisition than I did to the Chantry. I should be taking it!” 

His fist connected with the bookshelf. Books jumped and danced, several falling off as he dropped his head in defeat. “I should be taking it."

A soothing magic prodded at the edges of his consciousness and he threw up what little resistance he had. The magic immediately backed off. Trevelyan took a hesitant step toward him. “You give enough, Cullen. I’m not asking you for more. The Inquisition could be your chance to start over… if you want it to be.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible,” he admitted.

“It is.” She reached out to squeeze his arm reassuringly. He dropped his hand from the bookshelf with a sigh. 

“Commander? Do you have a—” _Ariana_. His heart leapt at hearing her voice from the open door and his eyes snapped over toward her. “Oh! I’m sorry to interrupt, I’ll come back later.”

“No, stay.” The words spilled from his lips. Rushed. Urgent. They hadn’t spoken since that night in the chapel and now she was here, standing in front of him.

Trevelyan gave him a long look as she gestured Ariana into his office. She left through the door where Ariana stood, nodding at her sister as she passed. 

Ariana looked down at the smashed lyrium box on the ground, the dislodged books spread across the floor. He wondered what she must be thinking about the disarray, about the chaos of his office, usually so meticulously kept, but he’d been unable to focus, unable to keep the appearances without her. Maker, he couldn’t do it without her.

She took several steps towards him and silently embraced him, her arms firmly wrapping around his waist. 

“These memories have always haunted me. If they become worse, if I cannot endure this…”

“You can,” she assured him, nestling her head into his neck.

He stroked her hair with a shaking hand as he held her in his arms. He focused on his breathing, a slow, steady pace. Deep breath in, deep breath out. He was here in the present, finding strength in her quiet… Love? Could it be? Maybe he’d been dreaming, imagining things she wouldn’t say. But she'd seen all of him, the worst of him laid bare, and yet here she stood, in his arms, anchoring, steady, while the storm raged around them. While the storm raged within him.

Unless she had come for another reason. Panic started back up within him. “Did you come to…” 

“To what?” She pulled away to look at him.

He closed his eyes. “Leave me?”

“Oh, Cullen,” she lifted her hand to his cheek, waiting until he opened his eyes again to look at her. “All I can promise is that I am here now.”

His chest tightened. Of course she would leave, eventually. But having her now was enough. It would have to be. “You should hate me for what I’ve done.”

“I could never.” Her hand slid down along his jaw to rest of his chest.

He reached for her, wrapping his hand around the back of her head. “You are more than I deserve.”

She gave him a sad look and laid her forehead against his. Her eyes were closed, but he watched her all the same. As though she weren’t quite real. Without her, he could not endure this. The waking nightmares still haunted him, but as he held her, felt her, he knew that he could endure.

***

If she were in the Free Marches, the world would already be well on its way to spring. Here in the Frostbacks, however, the only indication that winter was drawing to an end was the sun. The sun had shone every day since Wintersend. The temperature hadn’t quite caught up, but Ariana could almost feel the way the earth awoke beneath her feet, brimming with rebirth.

Skyhold came alive with the lengthening days, the fortress happily humming along with the wakening spring. 

Ariana sat back on her heels, running a dirty hand along her forehead and smiling down at the freshly tilled soil.

Her sister had designated the garden to be a Chantry garden, reserved for prayer and contemplation, but with Mother Giselle’s encouragement and the advisors’ blessing, Ariana was transforming part of the space into an herb garden for the mages and the infirmary. 

Unbeknownst to her, Evelyn had been collecting seeds in her travels and happily presented them to Ariana as a birthday gift the morning after her talk—if one could call it that—with Cullen. Ariana, still raw from reopening those old wounds, had burst into tears at the thoughtfulness of her sister’s gift. Evelyn had been concerned by Ariana’s tears, but Ariana still hadn’t been able to tell her the truth of what had happened. Their relationship was a long way from what it had once been before Evelyn’s magic manifested and before all the loss that followed.

But at least she was here with her sister again and had the opportunity to repair the chasm that had opened between them. As unreal everything about their current situation seemed, Ariana couldn’t help but feel gratitude that an ancient magister had opened a hole in the sky. She still wasn’t sure if it was the Maker, but some power somewhere had brought them back together.

Mother Giselle procured new gardening supplies for Ariana, since everything had been lost at Haven. The revered mother considered Ariana’s work a physical representation of her devotion to the Maker and was more than happy to ensure Ariana had what she needed to do the Maker’s work.

Ariana set down her spade and dug her fingers into the soil to break up the clumps, the scent of it filling her nostrils. She loved the feeling of Skyhold in her hands, the way the ground beneath her seemed to sing to her soul. She hadn’t thought it possible to feel so complete in a place outside of the Free Marches, yet she did here. In the fortress in the middle of the mountains where summer was almost an afterthought. 

A movement to her left caught her eye and she looked over to see Cole sitting cross-legged on the ground. She couldn’t make out his expression, but by the angle of his hat he seemed to be staring at the seed packets she’d laid out.

“Hello, Cole.”

He briefly looked up at her before directing his eyes back down at the seed packets. “Can I help?”

“Of course.” Ariana glanced down at her copy of the _Southern Farmer’s Almanac_, already opened to the late winter planting schedule. “We’ll start with the elfroot.”

She watched Cole open the seed packet and fished out a single seed, holding it between his fingers with reverence before he handed it to her. At that rate, this planting would take all day, but she had nowhere else to be and truthfully, it was nice to have the company.

“Varric calls me ‘Kid’ and it pulls me here. But when he calls you ‘Princess’ it takes you…” Her breath caught in her throat as she covered the seed with soil. “There.” 

Memories returned of the only other person who had ever called her that. The boy who had once been her world. Now that she’d dug up the memories of him, she couldn’t seem to escape them. But it wasn’t quite as painful as she’d thought it would be. The old sorrow wrapped itself comfortably around her and Ariana held it in her heart, letting herself feel again.

Cole focused on the packet again as he pulled out another seed to hand to her. “Like that. Why?”

Ariana pushed the air out of her lungs in a slow breath as she took the seed, placing it into the next hole. “Someone once very dear to me used to call me that. When Varric says it, I remember.”

“Varric doesn’t know that it hurts.”

She reached for the next seed. “He doesn’t need to know everything.” 

Cole contemplated her words as they continued to work, one hole and one seed at a time. “It’s nice that your heart has a secret of its own.”

Ariana stilled and looked over into his earnest blue eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“That’s what you call him, isn’t it? The secret of your heart?”

“Cole.” She turned to face him. “Do you know what a secret is?” The boy shook his head. “Secrets are something that are not meant to be known by others.”

“Oh.” He frowned, a look of consternation coming over his face.

“Don’t tell anyone else about that secret, okay?”

He nodded and picked up the next packet of seeds. They continued in silence until Cole spoke again. “I listen to the hurt.” 

Ariana regarded him. “I imagine there is much for you to listen to right now.”

“Yes. But not when you are with him. There is no hurt then.”

“Don’t,” Ariana told him. This was not something she wanted to explore. Not right now. Maybe not even ever. “That is not up for discussion.”

His face screwed up in confusion beneath the brim of his big hat. “I don’t understand.”

“Some things are not meant to be understood. It’s part of being human.” A frown appeared as he considered her words.

The pair returned to quietly working side by side as they finished planting each of the late winter seeds. Ariana sat back on her heels as she surveyed their work.

“Cole, I wonder… can you hear the thoughts of _all_ living things? Animals? Plants? Even the ground beneath us?”

He looked up at the sky as he thought. “If there are any to be heard. Hurt pushes, presses, it needs the listening. People are too loud. But sometimes, in the silence, I hear.”

“Interesting.” Ariana followed Cole’s gaze, looking up at the sky. There was nothing there. “Do you hear anything now?”

Cole smiled, dropping his gaze to fix his pale eyes on her. “Safe and solid, protecting and proud. He feels like quiet, stronger when you hold him.”

***

“My dear!” Lady Jacquier crooned, fanning herself with an ornate paper fan as the two women walked along the cloister of the chantry garden. “You absolutely must visit Madame Patisserie next time you are in Val Royeaux. They have the best pastries in all of Orlais.”

“All of Orlais? Surely you jest. I thought there was a patisserie in Halamshiral that was a particular favorite of the empress?”

“_Oui_, Maude et Sabi, but there are rumors that—” Lady Jacquier abruptly stopped speaking as a soldier approached. 

“Good afternoon, ladies.” The man bowed to them both before focusing his attention fully on her. “Bann Trevelyan, Commander Cullen requests you join him in the war room."

"The war room?" Ariana frowned in confusion. What could he possibly need her for in the war room?

“Yes, my lady. He said it's urgent.”

Ariana gave an apologetic smile to Lady Jacquier who shooed her away with another wave of her fan. The soldier hurried through the main hall and into Josephine’s office as Ariana struggled to keep up with him. Her shoes had been selected for a leisurely stroll around the garden, not to race through the halls of Skyhold.

He was already inside when she walked through the door. The war room was filled with the warm afternoon sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows. Cullen leaned over the war table in the center of the room, hands flat against the surface, his face darkened by shadows. “Thank you, soldier. Close the door on your way out.” 

The door closed with a loud bang and the sound echoed off the stone walls. Ariana waited for him to speak, unsure of why he’d interrupted her afternoon to bring her here. 

His nostrils flared as he spoke. “Take off your dress."

_What?_

She must have said the word aloud, because he repeated himself slowly, enunciating each word, “Take off your dress.”

“What if someone comes in?”

“You would like that, wouldn't you?” She sucked in a breath as she realized his meaning. In one of their phone conversations from those long weeks in Val Royeaux, she'd confessed she wouldn't mind someone seeing them together, or at least, knowing how hard he made her come. It had been meant to turn him on, but hearing the thought repeated back to her on his lips…

The smile that appeared when she lifted her hands to reach for the zipper of her dress could only be described as erotic. His eyes burned into her as the dress slowly loosened. Finally, with the zipper down to her lower back, she pushed it down over her shoulder and arms, down to the ground, before she stepped out of it, completely nude. His eyes raked her body before lifting up to meet hers with a smolder. Her nipples were hard in the cold air and her skin pebbled. He hadn't moved since she entered, and he finally shifted to stand upright, his erection tented his trousers. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Would you like for them to see the way your body unfurls beneath my hands? My mouth? My cock?” She squeezed her thighs together at his words. All the man had to do was speak for her body to hum in anticipation. He motioned her over to where he stood and she unsteadily walked toward him. His eyes were hungry as she approached. He grasped her hips, shifting her back against the war table. She shivered in the cold air as her backside connected with the cold wood. 

Cullen stood between her legs and ran his hands over her, caressing the curve of her breasts and down over her hips and thighs, down her legs to her knees. He pushed them wide as before sliding his hands back up along her inner thighs.

“What about you?” She sharply inhaled as one of Cullen's hands brushed along her lower lips, spreading her arousal along the path of his fingers.

She watched with fascination as he explored between her legs with his hands. Her muscles clenched and Cullen's thumb slid through her arousal to lift it toward her clit. “I might. So they would know you are mine.”

“I’m not yours,” she gasped as the pad of his thumb brushed against her. 

He pulled his hand away and she let out an unhappy huff. He stood over her, hands on the table on either side of her hips. “Oh? I remember agreeing not to be with anyone else. So these lips—”he leaned down and pressed his lips to her mouth, giving her a slow, sensual kiss—“are only mine to kiss.” 

He slowly, so infuriatingly slowly, moved his way down her neck and chest, to take one hard nipple in his mouth. Ariana sighed in relief as he teased one nipple with his mouth before moving to the other one and repeating the action. “And these breasts are only mine to play with.” 

He waited until she nodded before he continued his path down across the plane of her stomach. The slowness of his pace had become excruciating. She tried to press her thighs together but Cullen laid his hands gently on her knees, keeping them from moving until his lips hovered between the juncture of her thighs. Ariana tried to press her hips toward him, earning her a dark chuckle that send a zing of pleasure straight to her already aching heat.

He ran his fingers along the wetness that had gathered there. “And this pussy is only mine to touch...” He rubbed two fingers along her lower lips, one along each side, and she gasped at the sensation.

“And taste...” Cullen bent his head down between her legs, his tongue tracing along the same path his fingers had taken. First one side, then the others, and her eyes fell shut as his tongue lapped at the wetness there.

“And fuck.” He murmured, his breath hot between her legs. He slipped several fingers inside of her as he moved his mouth up toward her clit, his tongue flicking across the sensitive nub. When he grazed her clit with his teeth, Ariana’s eyes flew open. He was looking up at her expectantly, his head nestled in between her legs.

“Yes,” she gasped, pressing her hips toward his mouth, wanting more, needing more. 

He brushed his thumb along her wetness. “I want to hear you say it.”

When she didn’t immediately, he started to slide his fingers out. “Don’t!” He stopped moving, keeping his amber eyes intently focused on her. “Oh for the love of—I’m yours, okay?”

“Now come for me.” He smiled triumphantly as he wrapped his mouth back around her heated core and swirled his tongue around her clit, teasing with the tip of his tongue as his fingers worked inside of her. One of Ariana's hands wrapped around the back of his head as he continued his attention, when he curled his fingers inside of her, she felt the pleasure coiled inside her, needing to be freed. 

Her head dropped back as he pushed her over the edge with a curl of his fingers and a hard suck. The pleasure washed over her in waves as she came with his name on her lips.

Even as he pulled his mouth away, he continued to pump his fingers inside of he and her muscles clenched around him. He kissed along her collarbone, up toward her ear. "I've thought about taking you on this table for so long…"

She moaned as he pressed his erection between her legs, her muscles clenching the fingers he had still inside of her. He pressed her back onto the table and, much to her disappointment removing his fingers, pulled her hips toward the edge.

He released himself from his trousers and rubbed the head of his cock along her wetness. She shifted her hips, needing to feel him inside of her, but he hovered out of reach. “Cullen, please...”

“Tell me again that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” A shudder ran through her body as he sheathed himself inside of her with a loud groan, his cock filling her as her inner muscles stretched around him.

“Again.”

“I’m—Oh, Maker...” Words failed her as he began moving, sliding himself out of her before he'd pound back into her. His eyes watched her breasts bouncing with each thrust and she closed her eyes, just wanting to feel the way his cock felt sliding in and out of her. 

The map markers rattled on the table next to her head with each thrust, some of them dancing and tumbling. He was bent over her, one hand on either side of her body, the entire table rocking each time he pounded into her. She lifted her hands to play with her breasts, rolling the stiff nipples between her fingers, pinching and tugging on them as she worked toward her second orgasm. 

Cullen grabbed her legs and lifted her feet up over his shoulders, hands tight on her thighs as he pumped into her. As she felt herself getting closer, she moved one hand down to where their bodies were joined, stimulating herself toward completion again. She felt the coiling in her core, the familiar tightening of her body and she reached for it, focusing on the sensation of him inside her.

“Cullen...” She exploded around him with a moan, her muscles tightly clenching around his cock as she came. 

He continued to slide in and out of her as he bent forward over her, his face strained as he fought to maintain his control. “Say it.”

“I’m yours.” She was barely aware, but reached up to run her fingers through his hair, cradling his face in her hands to watch the way his face bunched in pleasure. He came with a groan, taking several last pumps to bury himself as deeply inside of her as he could. 

His body hung over her, hands flat against the table next to her, as he caught his breath. After he pulled out of her, he drew her toward him, wrapping his arms around her as he lowered his mouth to hers, his lips caressing her own in a gentle kiss as he smoothed her hair away from her face. "Now I'll have something to think about when these meetings get tedious." 

She smiled and gave him a small peck on the cheek as she dropped her feet to the floor and slid off the table.

"Your markers are all over the place." She padded over toward her clothes on unsteady legs, making sure she gave an extra sway to her backside when she realized Cullen was staring at her walking away, a mesmerized look on his face. She bent at the hip to pick up her dress, reveling in teasing him. 

Before she'd even managed to grab hold of her dress, he was behind her, his hands caressing the curve of her backside. “You are so beautiful.”

"You mean my ass is beautiful?" She stepped one foot, then the other into the dress.

"Yes. I mean, it is, but—Maker’s breath, I meant _all_ of you." He helped steady her, hands on her hips as she bent again to pull up her dress.

"Help me with the zipper?" She pulled her hair out of the way as he made quick work of zipping her dress. Once clothed, she walked back toward the war table. "Was that all you needed today?”

"No," he chuckled, joining her at the table. “I did want to ask you about some of the intelligence you gave us about Orlais.” 

“That was more than a month ago?” 

“I know.” He picked up a handful of the generic silver markers and handed them to her, before wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder. He gestured toward the map. "Show me again where you saw the troops on your return."

Ariana placed the markers as Cullen peppered her with questions about the troops and military installments she'd seen. She liked the feel of his arms around her, but the normalcy of the moment was unsettling her, more so than if someone had walked in when he was buried deep inside of her. At least that she could explain. Everyone had seen the man. It would take Andraste-like determination to resist. But this? His arms around her, his chin on her shoulder, holding her like it _meant_ something… That was unexplainable.

***

It surprised him that she’d allowed him to wrap his arms around her. He cherished the way her body felt in his arms as they stood in the war room, looking down at the map spread out in front of them. The map he’d just made explosive love to her on. Where she’d admitted that she was his. 

He would never look at the war table the same way again.

When she was done, she leaned back into his chest. An all too brief moment before she shrugged out of his arms, crossing them over her midsection. She didn't look at him as she said, “Cullen, you know this is only temporary.” 

“And?”

Her face was pained. “I can't be yours.”

“Ariana...”

She cleared her throat. “And if there’s nothing else you need—_work_ related—I really should get back to my guest now,” she said.

“Of course. I'm sorry to have kept you from him.”

“Her,” Ariana quickly corrected. “Lady Jacquier.”

Cullen couldn't help but roll his eyes when he heard the name of the noble that had been plaguing him over the past several days. The woman had been a bit of a menace at Skyhold, constantly harassing the soldiers to run menial errands for her. 

Ariana lifted her eyebrows at his reaction. "I know you don't like the nobility, but she—”

"It's not _the_ nobility, it’s Lady Jacquier specifically. She's been a thorn in our side since she arrived."

"But her support is vital. She’s been invaluable to helping my sister, and by extension the Inquisition, get a foothold in the Emerald Graves.”

"Speaking of your sister—” He started when a knock loudly sounded from the door.

It opened and Leliana strode through, the soldier who'd been assigned to watch the door trailing after her. "Commander, I told her that—”

"But I am not who the commander intended to keep out." 

_Wrong_. She was exactly who he’d intended to keep out. He was relieved he and Ariana had merely been discussing a noble when Leliana decided to enter. 

"You're free to go," Cullen told the man.

"But you said—”

"I know what I said," Cullen snapped, cutting him off mid sentence. The soldier nodded before he exited, pulling the door closed again behind him.

Leliana was eyeing Ariana when Cullen turned back toward them. "Bann Trevelyan, why are you in here?"

Cullen answered for her. “I had questions about what she saw in Orlais. Something is not right, especially when combined with what the Inquisitor has sent back from her own journeys in the Emprise and the Graves.”

“Yes, I noticed that as well.” Leliana bent over the map and picked up a few of the knocked over markers. She glanced up at Cullen before eyeing Ariana again out of the side of her eye, but she didn't say anything as she set them back where they belonged. “The last report said there are troops stationed here…”

“Leliana, before you arrived, I was telling the commander that I need to get back to Lady Jacquier. Would you excuse me?”

Leliana looked up with a sly smile on her face. “She's no longer in the garden. You gave her an opportunity to sneak away from the group to meet her lover. However, Comte Touchard was asking for you. You can find him in the main hall. Josie is already entertaining him, but she could do with some relief.”

Comte Touchard. Another Orlesian thorn in the Inquisition’s side. Cullen was sensing a theme. Ariana gave Leliana a tight smile before she turned to leave. 

“Thank you for your assistance, Bann,” Cullen called after her. She gave him a fleeting smile over her shoulder before she left the room.

Leliana picked up another handful of toppled markers and studied them. “Did you learn anything new?”

“Yes, she caught more than she realized. She's rather good at this.” Leliana gave him a knowing smile, handing over the markers as Cullen explained some of the new information he'd gleaned from their conversation, including concerns he'd had based on what they'd received from Trevelyan in recent days. They spoke much longer than he'd intended, he knew it must be late by how quiet Skyhold had become. He and Leliana exited through Josephine's empty office, fire reduced to embers, and into the great hall. 

There was still a party going on in the far corner. The group of Orlesians was surrounded by empty bottles of wine. By the look of it, they’d consumed more than one bottle per person. He could make out the back of Ariana's head in the group, her black hair loose around her shoulders, still wearing the dress he’d zipped up for her mere hours prior.

Their relationship changed after their confessions to one another. How could it not? Although, he suspected that the shift hadn’t affected them both equally. Where Cullen recognized a new depth in the way he felt about her, it was one-sided. At least, that's what he told himself, as much as he wanted to believe otherwise. Every time he tried to pull her closer, she pushed further away, consistently reminding him that she would eventually leave him. That undercurrent had always been there, beneath the surface, but now it was more like an undertow that threatened to drag him out further into the depth with no hope of making it back to land. Cullen couldn’t help but question whether or not he’d make it out the other side of this affair intact.

He heard her laugh, the sound echoing off the walls of the great hall. The feeling that clutched at his heart was what he wanted to remember when he thought about her. The joy he felt at knowing she was happy.

He followed Leliana through to the rotunda. She headed up the stairs toward the Rookery, while he entered Solas’s room. The elven man had been decorating the walls with frescoes of the Inquisition. He’d made great progress while Trevelyan was in the Emprise du Lion. Whatever had transpired between them was in the past now as he’d joined her mission to the Emerald Graves.

The boy-spirit was sitting on Solas’s desk in the middle of the room, swinging his legs back and forth as he watched Cullen approach.

“Cole,” Cullen greeted him. He hadn’t seen the boy in awhile, although he’d received the messages. “How are you?” Cole cryptically smiled at him in response. Cullen sighed, “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Scars mar her, but didn't make her. She was never broken.” 

“I know,” Cullen responded, wondering where the boy was going with that.

“She hurts. I want to help.”

“Why can’t you?”

“It’s a secret.”

“I see.” Cullen let out a slow breath as he looked up toward the ceiling of the rotunda at the empty bird cages still hanging there. They really should remove those. He knew the boy meant well, but he couldn’t decipher what he was trying to tell him.

Cole sighed. “‘Secret’ means it’s not meant for others to know.”

“I know what the word means...”

"But not all is secret." Cole slid his eyes up to meet Cullen’s. "Yours. She likes the way it feels in her mouth..." Cole stared at him long enough that Cullen began to feel uncomfortable under the weight of his gaze. "She likes the feel of your mouth, too." 

"Maker's breath," Cullen sighed as lifted his a hand to his forehead as he closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, Cole was still intently staring at him. "Why your mouth?"

This was not a conversation he was going to have with the boy. Varric could do that. "Good night, Cole." 

"Good night!" 

As Cullen headed through the door, he considered the boy's words. _Yours. She likes the way it feels._ And at those words, he felt tiny seedling of hope that had rooted itself in the depths of his heart begin to blossom. 


	25. Chapter 25

He stared at the maps laid out on the desk. Despite the Inquisitor's disruption at Sahrnia Quarry, the Red Templars continued to expand across Thedas. Trevelyan located a number of camps in the Emerald Graves, destroying them as she methodically worked her way through the area.

He'd finally sat down, closing his eyes as he leaned his head against the back of his chair when a knock sounded on one of the doors. "Enter!" He called, hoping he sounded infinitely less weary than he felt.

After the door opened and closed, he opened his eyes. The warm feeling deep inside of him radiated from within. He always felt it when Ariana was near. Or even when she wasn't, all he had to do was think about her for that feeling to surface.

"I hoped you'd stop by," he smiled as she approached. 

"Is that so?" The back of his neck tingled and he felt another stirring within him as she approached, her steps steady and sure. "Why might that be, Commander?" 

"It's, ah, always a pleasure to—" He cut off as she stood between his legs and ran her hands through his hair, his own hands gripping her hips in response.

"I hope you have time for a break," she said as she sank to her knees, running her hands down his chest.

He swallowed as her hands dipped lower, toward his waistband. "What are you—"

She placed a finger on his lips to quiet him and danced the fingers of her other hand down further.

"Ariana…" he murmured into her finger.

"I keep thinking I could go down on you, right here under your desk, and no one would even know…" Both of her hands were down at his crotch, one rubbing up and down his hardening length, the other pulling his belt through the buckle.

"You don't have to do that," he told her, choking back the panic rising within him. "It's not—"

"I know." 

She'd gotten the belt unbuckled and started on his fly when he grabbed her wrists. "Stop."

As Ariana sat back on her heels, Cullen hastily rebuckled his belt and slid back in his chair, away from her. She frowned up at him. 

Cullen cleared his throat. "Could you—"

"Why won't you let me go down on you?"

Her question took him aback. As he paused in stunned silence, she pushed herself up from the ground. He wanted to catch her wrist and pull her toward him, to wrap his arms around her and wipe the disappointment off her face. But he couldn't, not when her question was so real and so raw.

She was already standing by the bookshelves, her back to him, when he finally spoke. "It's complicated."

"Complicated?" She let out a mirthless laugh. "It's a blow job. What is complicated about that?"

He sighed and ran both hands through his hair as he stood. "I don't know if I can explain…"

She spun around. "Try."

“I don’t know if I can.”

She shook her head before stalking toward an exit.

"Ariana, wait," he called, but she was already pulling open the door to leave.

_Damn it._

He chased after her, rushing past a group of gossiping scouts and through the next empty room. She was fast and was almost to the stairs when he caught up with her.

"Bann Trevelyan." To his relief, she paused, casting a glance over her shoulder at him. He jumped on the opportunity. "I hoped I might convince you to join me for a walk on the ramparts?"

After a brief hesitation, she turned. "Of course, Commander. Perhaps we could walk towards the mages' tower?"

They passed in silence through Iron Bull's bedroom at the top of the tavern. Maker, this had to be one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. More embarrassing even then when he’d been caught taking care of himself as a youth by the older Templars.

As soon as they were out the other side, Ariana stopped. "Far enough?"

He nodded. This part of the ramparts were empty. Even so, he kept his distance, ensuring there were at least several feet between them.

She studied him as she leaned back against the ramparts. "Talk or I'm leaving."

"This isn't easy for me."

"Cullen." She shot him an exasperated look. "We've had sex how many times?"

"Ah…" He lifted his hand to the back of his neck as he felt a blush creeping up it. He didn’t know if he could _quantify_ it.

"Plenty," she continued, not waiting for a response, "And you've gone down on me most times. Yet I've not on you once. Not once." 

"I don't want you to feel like you have to." He walked the wall and looked out at the valley beyond Skyhold.

"Have to? Cullen, I _want_ to."

"Want to?" He glanced over at her in confusion. "But women don't… enjoy doing that."

Ariana let out a light huff. "Do you enjoy going down on me?"

"Maker, yes." She lifted a hand and widened her eyes, as if that explained it. "But voluntarily?" 

"Like you wouldn't know," she dismissed with a gesture of her hand. "Women probably lined up for you when you were a Templar."

He stiffened. "You're wrong. And the way the others talked about it, women didn't enjoy _doing_ it."

The way she turned to face him, slowly and with a narrowing of eyes, had him wishing he hadn't said anything. She opened her mouth and closed it again, before she finally spoke, "Are you saying that you've never had a blow job?"

His face was burning as he stared out the valley. Even the tips of his ears felt hot.

"Cullen..."

He shook his head. "Don't." 

He started up the stairs, but she grabbed his arm. "Talk to me."

He shrugged away from her. "Damn it, Ariana. Stop asking about it."

"But—"

"Does it matter?"

"It matters to me!"

"Why?"

"Because I want—" Ariana cut off and put a pretty smile on her face, looking past him. A door closed and he turned to find Pavus sauntering down the stairs towards them. 

"I'm pleased you two agree it's a lovely day for a walk along the ramparts," he said by way of an introduction. When he reached them, he looked between them, a sly smile appearing on his face. "Oh, did I interrupt?"

"Not at all." Ariana's voice was too smooth, too normal. "I simply told Commander Cullen that I will best him at chess and he disagreed."

Cullen swallowed, forcing the words out, hoping they sounded normal. "I don't lose."

"Is that so?" Dorian mused, two fingers coming up to stroke his mustache. "Perhaps you've not yet met your match."

"Oh he has, but he won’t let me."

"Let you… what?"

"Play with him, of course." Cullen almost choked at Ariana's words. "I've been trying, but he refuses."

"Are we still talking about chess?" Dorian asked as he once again looked between the two of them.

Ariana batted her eyelashes at him. "Oh yes. To what else could I be referring?"

Dorian let out a loud guffaw. "Ari dear, you are a delightful tease. Shall we set up a tourney?"

"Please."

"Excellent. Come by the library later, we'll have wine and chat like old times." Dorian gave her a quick peck on the cheek before winking at Cullen. "_Valea_."

Dorian strutted toward the tavern, disappearing through the door to Bull's room. A grating noise sounded and Ariana closed her eyes in annoyance. "Great, now we're stuck here."

"Why are we stuck?"

"Bull's room will be… off-limits for awhile."

“Why?”

Ariana rolled her eyes and climbed the steps. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him along with her. "Come on, let's keep walking."

At the top of the stairs, she released his arm and turned toward the small platform above the garrison. Cullen followed, stopping several feet away from her. "It's not that I've never…" He closed his eyes as he remembered. As he felt the shame. "But in the tower… it's—that's what the demons used to… to try and break me."

"Only in the tower?"

He shook his head.

Ariana let out a slow breath. "Did you ever have one before that? Before you were a Templar? Or even when you were?"

He opened his eyes to stare across Skyhold. He briefly wondered what she might think of him, of all this. "No."

He looked at her out of the side of his eye. She stepped one step closer. It was close enough that she could touch him, but she didn't. There were people everywhere. Down in the courtyards, up walking along the ramparts. He'd been lucky it had been fairly quiet so far.

"Cullen…" Her voice was like a gentle breeze. The lilt to which he'd grown so accustomed like a balm. "I would like to go down on you. If you want me to."

"But... why?"

"Because I very much want to taste you. And it... turns me on."

He closed his eyes, seeing the images of her mouth around him. The Fade versions of Ariana. But he was awake, he was talking to her, and she was telling him she wanted it.

"I think I… I would like that. With you, I mean.”

When she didn’t respond, Cullen opened his eyes. She was staring at him, unblinking. He cleared his throat and she snapped out of her daze. “Oh, good. Tonight then?”

“Tonight?” He echoed. He didn’t know if he was ready, not really. But he was willing to try for her. “All right. Tonight.” 

***

Dorian was standing next to the window reading a book when she arrived. He snapped it closed when he caught sight of her and beckoned her closer.

Ariana wasn't sure how he managed to produce two glasses and a bottle of wine from the shelves, but he did.

Once he'd handed a glass to her and they'd toasted, he settled into his chair and Ariana perched on the arm next to him. "You and our commander looked rather cozy this morning."

Ariana took a slow sip of her wine. Dorian continued to stare at her as though he expected a response, so she shrugged. 

"Ari, please. You've been dancing around each other for months. As long as I've known you. You can't possibly still believe he's not interested."

She sighed, "I know."

"And you're obviously interested in him."

She shrugged again.

"Don't think I haven't noticed that you avoid each other. A shame really, since when you are together you two look like you're about to rip each other's clothes off."

Ariana choked on her wine. "Dorian!"

"It would be so nice to know what he looks like under all that body armor," Dorian sighed.

"You can watch the soldiers sparring."

"I have, dear. He never takes his shirt off. I bet he has a tattoo he doesn't want anyone to see, probably some large Templar emblem across his chest... or maybe on his thigh."

"He doesn't."

"Aha!" At Dorian’s shout, Ariana almost dropped her wine. "I knew it!"

"What?"

"You _have_ seen him naked!"

_Fuck_. "No, I—" 

Dorian clapped his hands with glee. "You must tell me all about—"

"I haven't! When Hawke was here, they sparred and he wasn't wearing a shirt!"

Dorian eyed her, suspicious of her excuse. It was true, but she had definitely seen him naked. Many times. She intimately knew his body. Every scar, every freckle, every inch of smooth skin…

"Ariana Trevelyan. Are you lying to me right now?"

"About what? He did spar shirtless with Hawke! Ask any woman at Skyhold. They were all there."

Dorian frowned. "How did I miss that?"

"I have no idea."

"There goes all my fun," he pouted. "Will you least tell me what you said to him to make him turn so red this morning?"

"It was a chess argument, Dorian. He was simply feeling impassioned about it."

"If you insist..." Dorian studied her as he swirled his wine around in his glass. "Why haven't you pursued something with him?"

"Because he commands my sister's armies. What good could come of that?"

"I'd imagine quite a bit if he makes you happy."

“I’m a noble.”

“No one said you had to marry him.” 

Ariana shook her head. "Eve wouldn't like it."

“My, aren't you a delightful pessimist today?” Dorian asked, before adding, "And your sister not liking something doesn't preclude your happiness."

"I am happy."

"I noticed, which is why I wondered if a particular fair-haired soldier was involved. But maybe it's your Orlesian. You'll be seeing him at the end of the month, yes?"

The end of the month? Was the ball at Halamshiral already upon them? How time had flown. "I suppose I am. But enough about me, how are you? Things seem to be going well."

"Well enough, but I'd rather not talk about it quite yet." Dorian leaned into her and Ariana wrapped an arm around him.

“So about that tournament…”

***

Ariana was nervous. _Nervous_. To be intimate with a man she’d already spent countless hours in bed with. But this was different. He was trusting her with something that he'd been avoiding.

Ariana checked herself in the mirror, smoothing her hair in one last attempt to quell her nerves. She'd felt so confident this afternoon, when she'd asked Cullen if she could be his first, but now… now she was seeded with doubts and insecurities.

Butterflies danced in her stomach as she made her way through the keep toward his office.

What if it wasn't like he expected? If his only experience had been from demons in the Fade, then being with her might be disappointing. As much as she loved going down on the men she'd been with, she was still only human.

She lightly knocked before slipping inside his office. He was pacing next to the bookshelf and jumped when she shut the door behind her.

"Hello."

"Ariana, hi," he exhaled the words as he awkwardly stood across the room from her. Maybe she wasn't the only one with nerves about tonight.

She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. His hands hesitated at her waist, but before long he relaxed, melting into the kiss. When they broke apart, Ariana lifted her hand to his cheek. "All good?"

"More than."

She smiled as she pulled him toward the ladder. "Let's get upstairs then."

The nerves were back when they made it to the loft. Cullen started when she reached for him. He shrugged away from her. "Forgive me, it's..." He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair.

Ariana knew it needed to happen on his terms. He needed to be in control. He'd always needed that in bed, even as she pushed him, he would ultimately be the one in control. "I know. However you want this to happen."

"Could I undress you?" The question was unexpectedly formal. He'd undressed her more times than she could count.

She smiled, and turned to give him access to the zipper at the back of her dress, but he didn't move. "Say it?"

"Yes, undress me." At the words, he stepped forward and slowly lowered the zipper. He sucked in a breath at finding nothing underneath, running his hands along her back as he pushed the dress down and off her. The air was cool against her body. 

He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. "Bed."

She walked forward, climbing in and crawling to the middle. When she rolled over to look at him, he'd already discarded his clothing and was following her.

They met in the middle, kissing, exploring each other's bodies with their lips and hands. Each kiss, each touch was desperate and wanting. She longed to push him into his back and finally taste him, but this had to happen on his terms.

Finally, they broke apart again. He was already hard under the attention of Ariana's hand. His eyes were dark and wanting, but also… worried. It hurt to see him doubting and second-guessing. If she could give him one gift, it would be to know that he was worthy of all good things, no matter who he'd once been.

"Cullen…" she cupped his cheek again. "We don't have to do this. I'll stop."

"I want to. You want to. I shouldn't let... the past control me." He sighed again, leaning back on the bed. "All right."

The words were more of obligation than the enthusiasm she would have liked to see, but it was a start. And a challenge. She would do what she could to make him eager for her mouth around him, not resigned to it.

She could sense his surprise when she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the center of his chest. Then up further, to run her tongue along his collarbone, kissing her way back along it before doing the same to the other side. She adored the way his body reacted underneath her hands and her mouth. By the time she’d worked her way down his chest, toward his stomach, his hands were fisted in the sheet next to him and his back slightly bowed. 

When she skipped over his straining erection to kiss one of his thighs, he groaned, his fingers tightening further next to him. She kissed and played with the smooth, sensitive skin of his inner thighs and he started to squirm underneath her. Every preoccupation he had about this was in his head. His body more than wanted.

When she finally took his erection in her hand, he involuntarily thrust into it. She glanced up at his face, eyes squeezed shut and lips in a tense line.

“Cullen, look at me.” She gave him several slow strokes as she waited for him to open his eyes. When he finally did, she could see the conflict between the desire and the shame in them. She held his gaze as she leaned forward and licked the tip of his cock. His nostrils flared and his hands twisted even more into the sheets, but he didn’t tell her to stop.

She again ran the flat of her tongue over the head, tasting the saltiness of his precum. When he again didn’t stop her, she licked from the base of his cock to the head. First on one side, than the other. And then she repeated the action, focusing on what he tasted like. Savory. Earthy. A slight spiciness that was subtle and light. 

Andraste, he was glorious. And he was all hers. Knowing that no other woman knew what Cullen Rutherford tasted like… Her eyes found his still watching her. She didn’t see any of the worry that had been in them earlier, instead finding only the intense burning fire she intimately knew from when they were together.

He groaned aloud when she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. As she slid him deeper inside her mouth, he released the sheet and started to reach for her, before clenching his hands into fists and returning them to his side. She noticed the reluctance as she noticed everything about him. The hesitation in the movement, the desire to touch her but afraid it would be too much. She bobbed her mouth on him, one hand reaching for a fist. She intertwined their fingers as the other wrapped around his cock, sliding up and down along with her mouth. 

He bucked his hips up, deeper into her mouth. “I’m sorry,” he groaned, pulling his hand back. She grabbed his hand again and slid him as deep into her mouth as she could get. When she felt him at the back of her throat, she placed his hand on her face. His brow furrowed in question as she held his hand there, sliding her mouth to the tip and then back down again. A swirl of her tongue had his hand sliding around the back of her head, fingers fisting in her hair. His eyes widened in panic and she wrapped her hand around his again and nodded.

_Touch me_ were the unspoken words she was trying to tell him, hoping that he understood. She concentrated on his cock, running her tongue around it as she took lazy bobs up and down it several times. With her free hand, she cupped his balls, softly squeezing them before massaging them in time with the movements of her mouth.

“Maker’s breath,” he moaned. She sucked harder, increasing in speed as his hips began shallow thrusts into her mouth. She could feel him tensing underneath her in anticipation. His hand was fisted at the back of her neck and his eyes were locked on hers as she worked her mouth up and down his length.

Her name was a chant on his lips, like a prayer. When she twisted her hand his hips bucked into her, his hand holding her head tight. “Ariana, yes, Maker—” She held his gaze as she relaxed her throat, allowing him to press even more deeply than he’d been. When he was fully buried in her mouth, she swallowed.

“Oh Maker, yes.” His body stiffened and then released into the back of her throat. She held steady as he rode out his orgasm in her mouth, his fingers tangled in her hair as he rocked his hips to get deeper, to get more. She exulted in his pleasure and in the way he'd completely unraveled beneath her.

When the tremors of his body slowed, she swallowed. He shuddered as she delicately slid him back out of her mouth. She gave him one last gentle kiss before crawling up his body, reveling in the way he was utterly spent and gorgeous laid out on the bed underneath her. The slight sheen of sweat that covered his skin, the heaving of his firm chest… She couldn't imagine a more glorious sight than Cullen in this moment.

And now that she knew what it was like to have that power over him, to have him coming undone in her mouth, she hoped there would be more times she would see him like this.

They lay there as Cullen caught his breath. He finally cleared his throat and said, “That was, um... really nice.”

“Only nice?” She propped herself up on his chest.

“No… _really_ nice.”

“Good.” She pressed a kiss to his chest before she laid her head back down.

"How was it for you? Too much? Are you all—"

"Stop worrying," she interrupted.

"But I sort of… I mean, I didn't—"

She placed a hand over his mouth. "Enjoy it."

"Okay…" he murmured into her hand as he stroked her back. After his heartbeat slowed, he said, "Maybe we could do that more often."

She smiled into his chest. "I hoped you'd say that."

"Did you?"

"Oh yes, I have plans for you."

"Plans?" He rolled her onto her back and began kissing along her jawline. "What might those be?"

She chuckled as she tried to push him away. "Another time!"

"I thought you said it turned you on." He was working his way down her neck, his hand venturing lower.

"It does, but—" She bit back a groan as he trailed his fingers between her legs.

"Maker's breath." His fingers easily slipped between her folds. "You are so wet."

He abandoned his slow pace and spread her legs, dipping his head between them. She cried out as he gently nipped at the skin of her inner thighs before he settled in, licking along her folds. Her hands tightened in the sheets next to her. "Fuck."

"As often as I can," he murmured against her thigh as he slid two fingers inside her. "For as long as you're mine."

His fingers began thrusting inside of her as he returned his mouth to her pussy to lap at her entrance with his tongue before moving up further to circle her swollen clit.

"Andraste. Cullen." She abandoned the sheets and gripped his head, fingers tightening with each pass of his tongue. Her hips rolled with each thrust of his fingers, her thighs clenching and trembling as she reached for her pleasure. He knew exactly what to do to push her to the edge. "Please..."

The curl of his fingers, the pressure of his tongue, and the way he sucked on her clit had Ariana crying out as the pleasure reverberated through her. He worked her through her orgasm, only stopping when her body was too sensitive for more.

Cullen kissed his way back up her body and pulled her into his arms. She shuddered as his fingers ghosted along her skin, every sensation in her body alive. "Wow."

"Yeah." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head as he wrapped himself around her. Holding onto her as though she might disappear if he let go. Wrapped in his arms, she felt like nothing else mattered except him.

"Tonight was supposed to be about you," she murmured into his neck.

"That _was_ about me."

"I beg to differ."

The way his chest rumbled in laughter was something she adored about him. She could envision the lopsided smile on his face. The way his scar would quirk up in happiness. The way the corners of his eyes wrinkled and his eyes danced with laughter.

"Thank you," he told her as he gave her another gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"You don't have to thank me."

He smiled. Ariana felt the way his lips curved up and the sense of happiness that enveloped her, even if she couldn't see it.

Happiness. Is that what this feeling was? This sense of... wholeness? It had been a long time since she'd felt truly happy, so it was possible. Wasn't it? That she found happiness here?

"Cullen?" She murmured, needing to know before sleep overtook her.

"Mmm?" The question rumbled in his chest where she felt more than heard it.

"Are you happy?"

There was a brief pause, before he spoke, "That I've ever been."

"Me too," she murmured.

"Ariana..." Her name sounded almost like a prayer as it slid from his lips. There was a long pause before he let out a slow breath, whatever he'd been about to say left unsaid, and wrapped his arms more tightly around her, holding her close as they drifted toward sleep together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Valea_ \- (Latin) Be strong


	26. Chapter 26

She stood in the ambassador’s office, perusing the books on the shelf as she waited for that afternoon’s war council to end. The door swung open with a soft _swoosh_. 

“Bann Trevelyan, you are here. Thank you for coming.” Josephine made her way toward her desk. Ariana placed the book she’d been studying back into the empty slot on the shelf.

“Now, we have some new developments—” Josephine started when the door swung open again. “Oh! Commander, if you have a moment?”

Time itself seemed to hold its breath, as it always did, when she turned and caught sight of him. He’d paused inside the door, intently focused on his phone.

“Of course.” His amber eyes found hers before quickly snapping toward Josephine. He took the several steps into the office before he fully looked at Ariana and told her with a perfectly neutral face, “Good afternoon, Bann Trevelyan.”

“Commander.”

Josephine beamed at them. “Bann, the commander has put forward a proposal to build a memorial at the ruin of Haven. The Inquisition could use more positive publicity right now, so I would like for you to accompany him for—”

“No,” Cullen flatly interrupted.

“No?” Josephine repeated, a worried look crossing her face.

“It’s not safe.”

“But the Chargers have already cleared it.”

“I don’t mind sleeping in a tent,” Ariana hopefully interjected.

“It’s indefensible.”

“It’s a ruin. How dangerous can it be?” Ariana asked.

“It’s in the middle of a wilderness. Beyond the wildlife, there could be any number of scavengers, raiders, and Maker knows what else!”

“So that’s your objection? Safety?” She asked, unsure of where his resistance was coming from. Things with them had been good... no, _better_ than good. “There will be how many soldiers around me at all times? If they can’t protect one noble, are they much as soldiers?”

“Bann.” Cullen looked up at the ceiling in frustration. “It isn’t going to work!”

They glared at each other. Josephine uncomfortably cleared her throat and Ariana flicked her eyes over toward her as she asked, “Josephine, would you excuse us?”

“Why, yes, yes, of course!” The ambassador nervously replied.

Cullen gestured to the door that led back toward the war room. Ariana brushed past him on her way through. As soon as he pulled it shut, her arms were wrapped around his neck and her fingers entwined in his hair, pulling his lips toward hers.

“I can’t focus when you’re around,” he told her, sliding his hands down her backside to lift her up against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his hips. “You’re driving me mad.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

“We’ll be living in tents. I can’t have you like I want you in a tent.” His hips pressed into hers as one hand slid under her sweater to her breast. He played with the nipple through the lace of her bra sending shockwaves down between her legs, heat pooling there. He dropped his face to her neck, his lips leaving a trail of heat as they passed.

Ariana knotted her hands in his hair, pulling his face back up toward her mouth. “Could be fun.”

He deeply kissed her, his hands still teasing her nipple, before he finally lowered her to the ground and stepped away with a ragged breath. Ariana leaned back against the wall as she watched him adjust himself.

“I know I’m going to regret this, but one night. That’s all.”

“Three.”

“Two. I’ll let Josephine know.” He leaned forward to press a quick kiss to her mouth.

She watched him under heavy-lidded eyes, unsure of whether or not she correctly understood him. “Right now?” 

“Yes, right now. I’m late for my next meeting.”

“But you were about to… how could you…”

He gave her a sultry smile as he took several steps towards the door and pulled it open. As he walked through the office, she heard him tell the ambassador, “The bann has agreed to two nights. You can work out the details. I’ve another meeting.”

Ariana sucked in a breath, composing herself before she followed him into the office. Cullen continued on through the main hall while she sat down in front of the ambassador’s desk.

“We should definitely invite some journalists,” Ariana told her with a wicked grin.

***

The gravel road crunched under the tires of their SUV as the familiar valley of Haven grew closer. Ariana nervously watched out the window, waiting for that first look of what had become of their small village. The large boulder that had once been near the refugee’s garden was now the only distinguishable feature. She’d seen the photos of course, they all had, but they hadn’t prepared her for Haven being entirely buried under the mountain of earth. The chantry, the buildings, the walls… all gone.

Construction on the small memorial was underway. The design was simple, a small chapel dedicated to the lives lost at both the Temple of Sacred Ashes and the destruction of Haven. It would be made entirely of stone with the Chant of Light etched over every surface. She was impressed that they’d managed to clear a location and set the foundation already. Several base layers of the stone had been laid and masons prepared for the next.

There were a large number of dwarven men and women spread out through across the construction site, as they were experienced stonemasons. Others were moving stone from a nearby quarry to the site for the masons to work on.

As the vehicle stopped near the construction site, she saw Cullen standing next to a young blonde woman. One of the soldiers that had had temporary duty in Redcliffe training the arl's soldiers. Ariana was surprised to see her since last she’d heard, the soldier would be in Redcliffe for some time. Although it had been three months since they'd been there. Or more. 

The woman was wearing a tank top, despite the fact that it was still technically winter, showing off her sculpted arms. When the woman smiled up at Cullen and gave him a light punch on his arm, Ariana decided that he'd been away from her for too long. She stepped out of the vehicle and headed toward the construction site.

The workers greeted her on her way past. She looked out of place here, in her spotless clothing and heels. She knew that it would be rustic and she would be sleeping in a tent, but she had still wanted to look good for him. But maybe she had miscalculated.

At the growing silence as more and more people noticed her, Cullen turned back to see what was going on. He broke into a smile when he laid his eyes on her and said something to the woman next to him. The woman turned and her eyebrows shot up as she took in Ariana’s clothing.

It didn't take long before Cullen was standing beside her. “Welcome back to Haven, my lady.”

“Thank you, Commander. It is… quite different than I remember it.”

“I imagine so.”

“Oh, I’m to give you an update. The journalists will arrive in the morning.”

“Nothing to be done about that now,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Come, I’ll show you to your lodging.”

He led the way toward the camp of tents. Slowly, so that she could keep up in her heels. As soon as they were out of earshot of the others, he dropped his voice and said, “Maker, you look… stunning.”

She beamed.

“I've missed you,” he continued, “I wish we could sneak away for a minute.”

“We could,” she teased.

“No, we can't,” he chuckled. “Someone would certainly notice I made off with the most beautiful woman in all of Thedas. Look, see that tent over there?” He gestured to a lone tent that was set away from the others. “That’s mine.”

“Why is it so far away?”

“Apparently I talk in my sleep.”

“You do.”

He chuckled, giving her a seductive look. “Meet me there tonight.”

So she did. Slipping away as the camp was winding down for the evening. She lay in the quiet of the tent, listening to the sounds of the soldiers around the campfire. Tomorrow she’d stay later to get to know some of the soldiers better, but tonight she needed him too badly to be able to focus.

The crunch of footsteps outside the tent startled her and she instinctively ducked her head into the covers of the bedroll as the tent zipper sounded.

“Are you in here?” Cullen’s quiet question reached her ears through the silence.

She threw off the cover, the mountain air cold against the warmth of her skin. “Yes.”

She could make out his shadow as he zipped the tent entrance back up and removed his shirt. 

He crawled toward her in the small space. “I didn’t mean for that to take so long.”

His body hovered over hers as he bent to kiss her. A frisson shot straight down her body as his naked chest touched her hardened nipples, sensitive from the cold air. 

“All I could think about this week was exactly how I planned to have my way with you in this tent,” he whispered as he rolled onto his side and ran his hands along her naked body.

“And how is that?” The words sounded loud in her ears, loud in the silence. 

Cullen smiled against her ear before he shifted to kiss her again, his fingers dancing down toward the growing wetness between her legs. He teased his fingers along her slit as Ariana lifted her hips toward his hand, but he pulled them back, keeping the same amount of pressure as he continued his steady pace. 

She let out a sigh of irritation as his chuckle rumbled in her ear. “Slow. I am going to touch you, and taste you, and make love to your beautiful body all night.” 

He captured her mouth in his, swallowing her moan as he slid a finger inside of her. “Shhh,” he told her before trailing his lips, his tongue, down to her chest. Capturing one pebbled peak in his mouth, he began pumping his finger, matching the movement of his mouth and tongue with those of his hand. 

Ariana threw one hand over her mouth as she fought back another moan. She felt his head lift from her breast and he smiled against her skin before continuing to kiss, and lick, and nip.

Cullen slipped his finger out and focused on her clit as he nipped at her collarbone and then pressed his lips there to sooth it. Ariana already felt as though she were skyrocketing toward completion, she arched her body toward him, sucking in a deep breath. 

Her eyes flew open when he stopped, trying to find him in the darkness, as the sensation ebbed away. 

Her hands found their way to his bare chest as he straddled her, the fabric of his denim jeans rough against her hips. He wrapped his hands around her wrists and guided them along the lines of his stomach and chest, up toward his face. He captured two fingers in his mouth, playing with them with his tongue, sucking on them, teasing them, tantalizing them before intertwining the fingers of both hands with his own. He lowered himself back over her, bringing their hands up over her head.

“Leave them here.” She sucked in a breath as he released her hands and slid his down her arms, down the sides of her body, his thumbs rubbing firmly along her ribs. He kissed her so gently she thought she might scream from the need inside her. She tried to press her hips up against him, desperate for the release she’d been so close to achieving.

He explored every inch of her with reverence. First, with his hands, roaming... and touching... and playing. When at last he’d had his fill, he switched to use his mouth, stroking... and tasting... and savoring. 

Ariana’s hands grasped at the pillow over her head, her fingers twisting into it as she struggled to maintain her control. She wanted him inside of her, needed him inside of her. He shifted his weight off her hips and pressed her knees wide, settling in between them.

Then he did the exact same slow actions to her inner thighs, taking his time as he explored the sensitive skin there. When his fingers brushed her heated core, Ariana could have shouted in relief—she _wanted_ to shout—but she held it in, gratified as he began to touch her again. When his tongue finally probed at her entrance, she let out a hushed sob of relief.

Her hands dropped to his head, tangling in his hair. He wrapped his hands around her thighs, spreading her legs further apart as he lapped at her arousal. His tongue swirled and danced inside of her and along her lips with a slowness that drove her closer and closer to the edge.

Ariana arched her lower back as she felt the pleasure coiling inside of her, angling her hips toward his mouth, needing a little more—

Cullen pulled away from her again and this time she did let out an unhappy grumble, “What are you—”

His hand clamped over her mouth and his breath was hot on her ear. “Be quiet. Unless you want the whole camp to know what I’m doing to you right now.” 

She huffed, running her hands through her hair in frustration, as she heard the zipper of his jeans and a shuffling noise as he slid them off.

His hands were at her hips, urging her to roll over. She did, pressing her face into the pillow in exasperation as he ran his hands along her back, his thumbs caressing her backside. Finally, she felt the head of his cock probing at her entrance, sliding back and forth along the wetness there. She lifted her hips to give him better access. He started to press the tip in, but again he paused.

Another impatient sigh escaped into the pillow as he pushed into her, inch by excruciating inch. When at long last he sheathed himself inside of her, he paused, heavily breathing over her shoulder. 

“Maker,” he murmured, “You feel incredible.” She turned her head to say something in response, but as she opened her mouth he slid out of her and thrust back into her and the words came out as a moan instead.

He pressed his body into hers, his arms sliding under her shoulders as he intertwined their fingers together. With each shallow thrust, he pressed his lips along her shoulder and neck. He nipped and he sucked at the skin there, his tongue mimicking the movement of his cock as he took plunging strokes inside of her.

The way his cock moved against her had her racing back toward orgasm again. She couldn’t keep in the noises any longer and let out another moan. One of his hands found its way back over her mouth as he continued the motion of his hips, thrusting deeper and deeper inside of her.

She wanted to come, needed to come, needed to break apart with this man wrapped around her, wrapped inside of her.

Cullen rolled off her. He lay on his back next to her, gasping for air as though he were attempting to regain control of himself. Ariana scrambled to her knees and straddled his hips before he could stop her. She grasped his erection in her hand, rubbing him at the entrance to her wet heat as his hands slid up her legs, caressing her thighs and hips.

With the barest hint of moonlight, she could see his eyes watching her. A sense of calm enveloped her as she seated herself on his throbbing cock with exquisite slowness. The way he felt inside of her was incredible, everything about him was incredible. She rolled her hips, reveling in the way his cock pulsed. As he watched her, she started a rhythm, her breath heavy she pushed herself toward release.

She ground on top of him, pressing her hands into his chest. His hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh and he pulled her down on top of him as he increased their speed, the sound of their bodies coming together the only noise in the silence of the night.

Ariana bent down over him as she focused on the movement of her hips, of the way he felt inside of her, feeling each shift, each pulse, each throb. When her release coiled within her, threatening to break loose, Cullen bit down on her shoulder. 

“Yes...” she let out a soft groan as she shuddered in completion around him. He wrapped his arms around her back and took several hard pumps before he found his own release deep inside her still pulsing heat.

Ariana heavily breathed into his neck as she came down. By his own deep breaths, she knew Cullen had fallen asleep. As she lay on his chest, enveloped in his strong arms, she noticed the light.

Morning already.

Taking care not to wake him, she slid off him, dressed, and slipped out of the tent into the camp.

***

“Are you taken, Commander?” 

The question caught him off guard. The journalist had her notebook out, her pen poised to write down his answer. The first part of the interview had consisted of questions about the Inquisition, but they’d turned increasingly personal.

“As in… a relationship?” He had to force himself not to look at Ariana when he asked the question.

“Sure.” The woman nonchalantly shrugged, but she closely watched his reaction.

“I can’t say—”he paused ever so briefly—“that I am.”

“Single then?” The woman lifted an eyebrow as she made notes. Cullen held his breath. “Can you tell me who your perfect woman would be?”

Cullen gave her a stern look. “I’m not going to answer that.”

“Why not? Our readers would love to know.”

“Because you’re here for the work that we’re doing, not for me.”

“Well, you are one of Thedas’s most eligible bachelors! I’d be doing our readers a disservice if I didn’t ask.”

“I—What?” 

“Yes! The list was announced just this morning.” The journalist whipped out her phone and pulled up the article. There was a photo of him from his Templar days in full uniform, listed as number three.

“Excuse me.” Cullen put some distance between him and the journalist before pulling out his phone to dial.

“Good morning, Commander!” A too cheerful Josephine answered on the first ring. “How are you this morning?”

“Did you do this?” 

“Did I do… this?” she repeated.

“Josephine, with the Maker as my witness—”

“I may have provided the requested photo, yes.”

“You could have given me some warning. I found out from a reporter!”

“Well, it was only made official this morning…”

“Is there anything else I need to know while I have these cameras in my face?”

The ambassador gave a nervous laugh. “Oh, yes. Bann Trevelyan is also on the list.”

Cullen let out a breath as he turned back to where she was laughing with the soldiers, cameras rolling. Great. 

“Maker's breath, give me a heads up next time,” he snapped before hanging up.

When Cullen got back to the journalist, the woman was wearing a smile that told him she wanted something. “Since you don’t want to talk about yourself, perhaps you’ll tell me more about Bann Trevelyan.”

The air wooshed out of his lungs. Did the reporter know? Had he looked over too many times under her watchful eyes? He glanced over at where the bann was standing. The cameramen were rearranging the shot to have her in the middle of the group of all male soldiers. Pulling out his phone again, he shot Karner a text to run interference. This was the last thing they needed.

“No. I will not.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know her well enough. You’ll have to talk to her yourself.”

The woman scribbled something in her notes as she thoughtfully nodded. “I’ll do that then. Thank you for your time, Commander Cullen.”

As soon as the journalist wandered off towards Ariana, Karner approached him. “She asked me to thank you for letting her know.”

Cullen nodded, keeping his eyes on the woman with the notepad. They’d only bothered to bring the media so they could get the word of the good works the Inquisition was doing out to the world, but this void-forsaken list had disrupted that plan.

Ariana gave the reporter a pretty smile and gestured for her to sit down. It probably wasn’t the first time she’d had to deal with this. With an internal wince, he remembered her past experience with the media had been anything but kind, but she continued to tolerate them. 

Cullen would have ripped them to shreds if he could have for what they’d done to her.

“Number three, that’s not bad,” Karner ventured. 

Cullen rolled his eyes. “It’s irrelevant.”

Karner gave him a sidelong glance as she continued speaking, “The top three are all military men. Interesting. Two is some sailor from Antiva, but Bechalet is number one again.”

“Again?” 

“Yeah.” Karner looked down at the article she had pulled up on her phone. “Looks like for the... third year in a row?”

“Great.” 

“Not my cup of tea, but it seems he is for a great many people.” She lifted an eyebrow. “I wonder what ever happened with him and Bann Trevelyan.”

Cullen sighed as Karner continued to tap on her phone, pulling up the list of most eligible Theodosian women. “Let me know if there’s anything else I need to do for this.”

Karner silently waved him away as she continued to read.

***

The bonfire crackled on the lakeshore as people milled about, celebrating another successful day of work. They were still weeks away from the completion of the memorial, but Cullen felt they’d made good progress in the week since he’d arrived. 

The camera crew had cut out late afternoon, heading back to a nearby inn for the night, so the mood of the camp was more relaxed than it had been the majority of the day.

Ariana was sitting on the opposite side of the bonfire, laughing with some of the soldiers. He intentionally avoided her today, self-conscious of the rolling cameras and the potential for millions of eyes to see their interactions. He was beginning to fear he could no longer fake disinterest when it came to her. Whenever he thought of her, whenever he saw her, the immensity of his emotions started to overwhelm him. 

It was better to avoid her. Better to pretend like they were, at best, distant acquaintances. So he left her to do whatever it was she was doing and he’d been sitting next to Karner all night discussing the latest update from the Emerald Graves. 

The Inquisitor had defeated the rebel separatists calling themselves the Freeman of the Dales, securing the Inquisition further support from a man named Fairbanks. Fairbanks operated a local militia who’d been assisting refugees in the Dales during the Orlesian war, something quite near and dear to the Inquisitor and her sister’s hearts.

It seemed that the entire world was waiting to see what happened at the peace negotiations. There had been little in the way of updates about the two warring parties—Empress Celene and Grand Duke Gaspard—but Cullen knew there was still time for moves to be made. Thus far, Duke Bechalet had remained loyal to his uncle, at least in all appearances. The advisors had kept a close eye on the Orlesian man, heeding Ariana’s warning that he would be a weathervane for which way the winds of war were blowing. 

Loud laughter from across the fire drew Cullen’s attention. Ariana was staring at him, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. She leaned over and whispered to the man sitting next to her... Well, he was a boy really. The soldier couldn’t have been more than eighteen. The soldier lit up at whatever she’d said and gave her a huge smile.

Was she trying to make him jealous? Is that what this was all about? Cullen ignored it and turned back to Karner, continuing their conversation about the war torn areas of southeast Orlais.

Before long, he felt someone approach them and looked up. Ariana stood in front of them. Her hands weren’t on her hips, exactly, but the glare she shot at him and Karner told him she was unhappy about something.

Her voice was forced. “Do you have a moment to speak with me? I’d like to go over the plan for tomorrow.”

“Plan?”

“The journalists. I spoke with Ambassador Montilyet earlier about how we should approach this latest news.” 

“Of course, have a seat.”

Ariana cast a glance in Karner’s direction. She didn’t quite sneer, but she was obviously unhappy with his suggestion. “In private. Please.” 

“All right then. Lead the way.”

Ariana led him away from the bonfire, away from the crowd. He thought she was headed back to the tents, but as soon as she’d walked around the boulder she pulled his mouth toward hers. 

One hand slid down to his crotch as she kissed him, her hand rubbing at the outside of his jeans. He moaned into her mouth as she rubbed along his cock, his erection growing with each pass of her hand.

She broke off the kiss, the look in her eyes dark and hungry. 

“What are you doing?” He croaked as she began to lower herself down his body, holding his gaze. When she was on her knees, she broke eye contact and looked at his crotch in front of her.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She rubbed her hand along his length again, through his jeans, eliciting a low moan from him.

Shame began to rise within him, but he tamped it down. This shouldn't be something that he felt ashamed about. This was _Ariana_. They'd done this before. She liked it. She wanted to do it. It was something they enjoyed together. She wouldn't lie to him and she wouldn't be on her knees before him if she didn't _want_ to be.

Cullen sucked in a breath as she slowly unbuckled his belt, undid the button, and lowered his zipper. “Out here?” 

She pushed his jeans down over his hips. He almost choked as she wrapped her hand around his growing erection, her fingers exploring the ridges and lines. His hands cupped the sides of her face as she flicked her tongue out to taste him. She flattened her tongue and ran it down along the underside of his cock to the base.

He held his breath as he watched the same dark grin spread across her face at the look in his eyes. “I can’t seem to help myself,” she said before lavishing her tongue on his balls. He had to fight to keep himself from thrusting into the hand that was sliding up and down his cock, lightly pumping in time with her tongue.

When her lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, he closed his eyes, giving himself over the sensation of her mouth around him. She felt amazing. She was better than he'd ever thought it could be. Even as he hesitated, he wanted to be as deep as he could be in the gentle warmth of her mouth.

“Maker,” he grunted as one hand found the back of her head, tightening in her hair, and the other braced himself against the boulder. He pressed himself deeper inside her mouth, feeling her tongue run along the side, swirling around, tasting him as she sucked. 

She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, squeezing as she started bobbing on him. He bit back groans as her other hand cupped his balls, softly squeezing them before massaging them in time with her mouth. Cullen bucked into her as she sucked harder. With each thrust, she took him in deeper and he could feel himself tightening in anticipation. 

Everything about her was incredible. She had an ability to make him forget everything when they were together, all he could think about what the way she felt around him. 

She’d accelerated her movements, taking him all the way into the back of her throat. He murmured her name like a prayer, and when she tightened her hold and swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting deeper still.

Maker, he needed to be inside of her. With a sharp inhale, he tried to pull himself out of her mouth. “If you don’t stop—”

Ariana’s grey eyes looked straight up into his and she swallowed. As her throat moved around him, he lost all thought. All he could do was feel. 

His hand tightened at the base of her neck as he bucked into her, his hips acting of their own accord. He pumped into her and when Cullen felt himself on the verge of exploding, she rolled his balls in her hand and pushed him over the edge. His orgasm ripped through him with another groan as he spilled his seed deep into her throat.

They stayed there with her on her knees, her mouth wrapped around his cock, his hand fisted in her hair, as she gently worked him through his orgasm until the tremors of his body subsided.

She stood, subtly wiping her mouth on her sleeve before pressing a kiss to his neck, right where his pulse was pounding from the intense pleasure of the moment.

His arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her in for a kiss. “That was—”

She pressed her finger to his lips, quieting him. “I know.”

He wrapped her hand in his, pulling it toward his mouth to kiss the back. "But I lost control, I—"

"That was the point."

"It… was?" Cullen shuddered when she again pressed her lips to his neck as she tucked him back into his trousers.

"Oh yes. I'll see you later." She smiled as she slipped out of his arms and headed toward the camp while Cullen made sure he looked presentable.

Karner was deep in conversation with another young soldier, a woman Cullen didn’t recognize, although there were more and more new recruits in their midst these days. Karner reached out to touch the woman's hand, but abruptly pulled back at Cullen's approach. 

When she got a good look at him, her eyes widened. She leapt up and pulled him aside. “Bloody void. You can’t be serious.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hush your mouth. You should see yourself.” Cullen felt his stomach hit the ground at Karner’s words. Was he really that transparent? “She’s gorgeous, I’ll give you that, but don’t do anything stupid.”

“Anything stupid?” Cullen repeated back to her, trying to figure out how to move the conversation away from this topic, but he couldn’t think.

“That’s what I said. You’d do well to tread carefully before getting involved with a noble.”

“Involved?”

“_Yes_.”

Cullen sighed, “We're not... well. It's complicated.” 

Karner's eyebrows shot up. “Damn right it is. She's a noble, don't forget that.”

“I haven't. Besides, it's not like I'm in love with her.” 

“Who said anything about…” Karner’s face was full of pity and concern. “Oh, Cullen. Bless your foolish heart.”


	27. Chapter 27

The evening breeze wafting through the open balcony doors held little more than the suggestion of springtime, but the doors were flung wide open nonetheless. 

_In the Orlesian fashion_, Ariana thought as she wistfully gazed at the roaring fireplace across the room.

Josephine transformed Evelyn’s already grand bedroom into an intimate dining room for the evening. Most of the furniture had been moved to make space for the dining table, although Ariana wasn’t clear where or how they’d managed to move the desk. Still, a table for fourteen had been arranged for the evening’s fête. 

Marquis DuRellion and his entourage were to stay at Skyhold for several nights before they continued on to Haven for the dedication of the memorial. 

The Inquisition soldiers spent the previous two and a half weeks, not that she was counting, taking rotations in Haven to complete the memorial. At least, most had taken rotations. Cullen had spent the entirety of the past weeks away from Skyhold.

Ariana should be thankful for his distance. Thankful that time and space had pumped the brakes on whatever it was they were doing.

The two nights she’d spent in Haven had been eye-opening for her. She’d never considered herself an insecure woman, yet she found jealousy gnawed at her when it came to Cullen. Even from the earliest days at Haven before they’d started up their affair… Ariana didn’t know where it came from or even why she felt so strongly about it. About him.

But knowing that he was on the list of most eligible bachelors, knowing that he’d be pursued by women and men across Thedas… She hated it. 

He was her secret, hers and hers alone. She wasn’t ready to give him up, not to another woman, not to anyone. 

Not for anything.

A quartet played music from the lofted area, filling the room with soft music as the guests mingled. Her gaze found her sister, resplendent in a gown of white and gold. It was simple, but the golden top was woven in a style that was almost Elven. She’d asked about it and all her sister would tell her was that she’d dreamt of it. Josephine had styled a sun diadem atop Evelyn’s white hair, braided and twisted atop her head in an intricate design. Sitting next to the fire, her sunburst diadem sparkling in the flickering light of the fire, her sister looked every bit the Herald of Andraste that people believed her to be. 

It was breathtaking.

Ariana’s gown was intentionally selected to offset her sister’s. The striped fabric alternated between black sequined and gauze fabric and the deep cut of her dress came together at the waist, before opening back up into a high slit in the floor length gown. Her hair was curled into loose waves and several silver star pins were sprinkled throughout her black hair. 

The darkness to Evelyn’s light.

Dorian swept up the stairs, a black cape swirling behind him, pulling her out of the middle of a conversation and into a corner.

“This is exceptional!” She pulled the fabric back to get a better look at it. It was attached to one side of his formal clothing, giving it a very dramatic feel.

The twinkle in Dorian’s eye told her he was pleased. “At least someone appreciates my fine taste,” he sniffed.

“Does someone not?” She asked, confused by his response. Dorian just waved his hand, ignoring the question.

“You look exquisite. Lady Montilyet really does know what she’s doing. You know, I’ve heard—” A bell tolled from near the stairway, signaling that dinner would begin soon. “Oh, we’ll talk later. I must find our inquisitor!”

Dorian glided away toward the dinner table, finding his seat near Evelyn. Josephine had already warned Ariana she’d be at the opposite end next to the marquis. Ariana was beginning to regret not bringing a cover as she approached her seat at the marquis’s right hand, rubbing her hands along the sequined fabric for warmth.

“Allow me.” A shiver ran down Ariana’s spine as the rich baritone of Cullen’s voice washed over her. He was back. Her breath caught in her chest as Cullen pulled out her chair for her, sliding it beneath her as she sat. 

“You look stunning.” His breath tickled at her ear as his thumbs grazed the back of her arms for a fraction of a second before he released her chair and walked away.

Ariana sat stiff-backed in her chair, willing herself not to watch every movement he made as he made his way to his seat at Evelyn’s right. At the furthest possible seat from her.

His formal Inquisition uniform, the black with golden trim, was the perfect counterbalance for her sister’s own attire. Ariana noticed for the first time Leliana sitting at Evelyn’s left, also a coordinated black and gold uniform. 

It seemed the entire Inquisition was dressed to highlight her sister's divinity tonight.

Next to her, Marquis DuRellion and the other three Orlesians surrounding her began an animated conversation about their travels. 

Ariana focused on the glass of sparkling wine in front of her. On picking it up and lifting it to her lips for a slow sip. She still felt his breath on her neck, his thumbs running down the back of her arms… She needed not to look at him and not to see the molten fire in his golden eyes.

The wine freely flowed throughout dinner and most of the table got louder and rowdier as the night wore on. Most of the group had gathered in front of the fireplace, rearranging the chairs to a more comfortable sitting area for their continued amusements, which mostly consisted of court gossip. 

Josephine sat next to Evelyn in the middle of the crowd, every once in awhile prodding her with an elbow to keep the Inquisitor from falling asleep in the middle of a story. Leliana and Cullen stood in a corner speaking in hushed tones as Leliana eyed the room.

With no one paying attention to her for the first time all night, Ariana slipped out onto the smaller balcony, stepping beyond the light spilling out of the warm room. Fully encased in darkness, she again wished that she’d worn more clothing as the wind whipped around her, billowing her skirt. She’d be out here for only a moment, to gather her thoughts, gather her wits, before she went back in.

“There you are.” 

Ariana’s breath caught at Cullen’s deep voice and the way it washed over her, setting her senses on high alert. She’d fought that feeling all evening with each rumble of his amused chuckle, each word of his easy conversation, each tiny snippet of his voice and all the lovely sounds that came from his beautiful mouth.

She turned her head to see him backlit by the warmth of the room, hand outstretched with a glass of sparkling wine. 

As he stepped closer, he frowned. “Where is your coat?”

“It’ll be summer soon enough,” she shrugged as she took the glass, lifting it to her lips for a sip. Another gust of wind swirled around them and sent her skirts billowing again.

Cullen cast a quick glance back into the room as a cheer rose inside. Through the window Ariana could make out several more bottles of wine being passed around the group sitting next to the fire.

His brows furrowed, but he stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in. “You are unrepentant about the damned coat, you know.”

She smiled, tilting her face a fraction toward his. “Am I?”

“Definitely.” His lips hovered above hers. “One of the many reasons I lo—” 

He abruptly cut off, pressing his lips together as he stared at her with too wide eyes. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but Ariana began to feel uncomfortable with the silence that hung between them. 

She lifted a hand to his jacket, playing with the golden trim that trailed down his chest. “When did you return?”

“Late this afternoon. I wouldn’t have missed seeing you in this dress for anything.” Cullen leaned back and gave her an appreciative once over, before pulling her back into his arms and lowering his voice. It tickled at her ear as he told her, “Now I can’t wait to get you out of it.” 

The words were right, but there was something a little too forced about the casual way in which he said it. The tone a little too strained to be flirtatious. All the same, she melted into the warmth, relieved to have some reprieve from the cool spring night. 

Cullen set his glass down on the stone railing and ran his fingers along the side of her face, down to her chin. His other splayed across her lower back as he pulled her body more tightly against his.

He kissed her, underneath the night sky, and everything around them faded into the distance. All Ariana could think about, all she could feel, was here in this moment, here in his arms. The warmth of his lips pressed against hers. The way his tongue begged entrance to her mouth, to explore, to taste, to play… She could be lost in his lips for all time. They were so alluring, so intoxicating, so all-consuming.

When they finally broke apart to breathe, Cullen searched her eyes, looking for something in them. Ariana slid her hand around the back of his neck to pull his mouth back toward her, but he backed away several steps and lifted his finger. Like a warning. 

Scooping up his sparkling wine flute, he leaned against the railing, looking out across Skyhold.

“Ari dear, time to go, yes?” Dorian staggered out onto the balcony. He paused at seeing Cullen and gave Ariana a sly look. A not subtle grin spread across his face. “On second thought, I’ll have another glass of wine!” With that, he stumbled back into Evelyn’s room.

“Andraste, that’s the last thing he needs right now,” Ariana grumbled. She turned to follow Dorian, pausing just before stepping through the open doors as she cast a seductive glance back at Cullen. “Commander, perhaps you would help me escort Lord Pavus back to his room? It’s the one right past mine.”

***

He awoke in a deathly silence. There were no sounds at all. The room had closed in on him while he slept. Nothing but darkness surrounded him. There was no light, not even the faint light of the stars through his skylight. Where was he?

Cullen sat straight up and reached out, trying to find something, anything to hold onto. His throat closed up, his chest tightened. Maker, he couldn’t breathe.

He willed himself to take slow breaths, paying attention to the way the air went in and out as he ran his hands along the ground. No, not ground, bed. It was soft, the blankets smooth underneath his fingers. 

_Think, Rutherford, think._

Blankets. A bed. His fingers connected with something, someone, warm and soft next to him. A bed, someone next to him. Where was he? Not his loft. Not a tent. Maybe the Fade. Maybe the Void. Where was he?

Phone. He has a phone somewhere. He reached for where a bedside table should be but nothing. There was nothing there. The alarm began to roil around inside of him and he felt his heart rate rising, his temperature rising. He focused again on the way his breath felt coming in and going out and reached back out for the person next to him.

“Cullen?” Her sleep-laced voice brought him crashing back. 

_Ariana_.

He dropped his head into his hands as he willed his heart to slow, as he willed the chill that had overtaken him away. He felt her hand on his back and the realization in her voice as she asked, “Is everything okay?” 

He took a steadying breath, praying that his voice sounded normal. “Another nightmare.”

She shifted in the bed next to him and he stiffened as her arm wrapped around his waist. She didn’t speak and didn’t move to touch him anymore, but he couldn’t control the shaking. Couldn’t stop it. He didn’t want her to see him like this.

He slid his legs over the edge of the bed, twisting out of her embrace. He had to get out of here, had to go somewhere, anywhere. His foot connected with a piece of clothing on the floor and he picked it up. His trousers. Now to find the others...

“Where are you going?” She asked, all traces of sleep gone from her voice.

“I…” Cullen stalled, grasping for an answer as he found his shirt, slipping it on. “For a walk.”

He reached back down for his jacket as she asked, “At this hour?”

“Yes.” He began working on the buttons of his jacket. He didn’t know where his shoes were, but he no longer cared. He had to get out of this room now. “I need to go.”

He carefully picked his way across the unfamiliar room, feeling along the wall toward where he thought the door should be. When he finally found it, he faltered a brief moment before pulling it open. 

“Forgive me,” he told her before striding through it.

As soon as he’d escaped the room, under the millions of stars spread across the night sky, the air rushed back into his lungs. The Frostbacks hovered on the cusp of spring even though they were almost midway through Drakonis, making the stones of the fortress freezing beneath his bare feet.

He considered taking the long path along the ramparts back to his room, but as the wind howled around him he changed his mind. He cut through the keep, warmed by the ever burning fires, over the stone bridge to his office.

Once inside, he quickly stripped and climbed into bed, staring at the thousands of glittering stars painted on the ceiling above him. As he watched them twinkling, exhaustion overtook him and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

Sleep continued to elude her long after he’d left. It was the first time he’d been in her room and he’d not even made it an entire night. Although that was what she wanted, was it not? Him, when she wanted him, but for no one to know about it. 

She didn’t want to be upset about it. She knew she didn’t have a right to be. Him slipping out under the cover of darkness was exactly what she did most nights.

So why did it hurt so much?

As the grey of morning began to lighten her room, she gave up and dragged herself out of bed. She tripped over one of Cullen’s shoes that he’d left on his side of the bed as she made her way to the bathroom.

Despite taking a long hot shower, she was no more awake than she had been when she forced herself out of bed. Ariana knew she wouldn’t be entirely awake until she’d had her morning cup of coffee. She could go to the main hall, she supposed, and eat breakfast with whomever else happened to be awake at this unholy hour or… She eyed Cullen’s shoes on the floor. She could return his shoes and get the best cup in all of Orlais. It was a no-brainer.

After some digging around, she found a large enough bag to hide the shoes in and she headed toward the keep.

There were some people milling about on the main level, but she didn’t see anyone as she cut through the rotunda and across the stone bridge. 

When she arrived at Cullen’s office, she tentatively knocked. After several moments with no response, she pushed open the door and called his name, but still received no response. She started to worry that he may not have been back, so was flooded with relief when she noticed his coffee cabinet was open and the maker was warming an already brewed pot. She dropped the bag of shoes next to the desk and walked over, seeing about one cup left in the carafe.

He’d left it for her. An emotion she didn’t recognize fluttered inside of her. Happiness again? Must be.

She looked on his desk for a notepad so she could leave him a note of thanks, but not finding any, opened one of his top desk drawers. She pulled it open and quickly pushed it closed, not seeing a pad in there either. But something caught her eye, something out of place, and she slowly slid the drawer back open.

There was a photo of them from when they’d visited the former refugees in the Hinterlands. Cullen had been behind the camera most of the trip at Josephine’s request, but one of the children had insisted on taking a photo of the two of them.

Compositionally, it was a bad photo. It was off center, much too zoomed in, and the tops of their heads were cut off, but even with all that, it was perfect. She was laughing at something the child had said, her too large smile spread across her face, and Cullen was looking at her with a look of such adoration... her heart contracted.

A note stuck to the back, in what looked like Leliana’s handwriting, read: 

> _Thought you'd want this one._

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and snapped a photo of it before placing it carefully back in the drawer and continuing her search for a notepad.

The next drawer held a stack of sticky notes. She drew a small heart and stuck it on the coffee maker.

She poured what was left of the coffee into the mug she thought of as hers. Once she had, she made her way back toward the keep. Right before she turned up the stairs to return to her room, Josephine opened the door from the main hall.

“Oh! Bann Trev—Ariana! You are awake. Thank the Maker. The marquis and his men are going on a tour of the valley later this morning, but I need your assistance with dinner tonight.”

“A tour of the valley?”

“Yes, the commander offered to take them. It will be… a relief for them to be out of the castle for a while.”

Ariana smiled as she lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip, before telling Josephine, “Let me know how I can help.”

“Is that not Commander Cullen’s mug?” Josephine asked.

Ariana gave her a pretty smile. “It’s mine now.”

“He gave you his mug?” 

“Well, I won it in… a chess game.”

“A chess game? You’ll have to come up with something better than that.”

“But I have! I mean, I did!” Ariana insisted.

Josephine gave her a skeptical look. “He is one of the best strategists that I’ve ever met and you beat him in a game of… strategy?”

“When you put it like that, maybe he let me win.” Ariana cradled the mug. “But the mug is still mine.” 

“I had no idea you felt so strongly about coffee mugs, Ariana.”

“Only this one.”

Josephine just lifted her eyebrows in response. “Well. Now that we’ve established that, will you entertain the marquis’s group for dinner?”

“Of course. It would be my pleasure.”

“Thank you. I don’t know how I’d manage all this without you. Does eight o’clock work?”

“Sure, I’ll meet them in the main hall then.”

“Oh, they want to go to the tavern.”

“Well, I do love the tavern,” Ariana told her with a smile. “Happy to entertain.” 

***

As soon as his foot hit the first step, he heard her calling from behind him, “Commander!” 

A smile broke out across his face at the thought of seeing her. After he’d panicked in the middle of the night, he’d not expected to hear from her. Or if he did, he expected her anger and frustration. But instead of any angry messages or icy silence, when he’d returned to his office after giving the marquis and his Orlesian guests a tour of the valley around Skyhold, he’d seen the note she left on the coffee maker.

A heart.

Even though he knew it was nothing more than her thanks for the coffee, it was difficult to avoid reading more into it. But he would take it for what it was meant to be, no more than a thank you, because he couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t risk her knowing he'd fallen in love.

When he turned to greet her, he took a moment to appreciate how incredible she looked wearing a knee-length black dress, long-sleeved of course, and heels. The woman always looked impeccable. 

“I learned today that I lost a coffee mug in a chess game,” he told her as she approached, a smile dancing on his lips.

“She cornered me!” Ariana told him when she was close enough. “I didn’t know what else to say.”

His laugh was low and sultry. “But it’s ridiculous. Why were we even betting on a chess game?”

“Because I love the mug? Besides, you let me win.”

He just smiled in response as the two of them climbed the stairs. When they reached the ramparts, she glanced around and pushed him toward the far end. He knew that soldiers didn’t patrol this part of Skyhold. There was no point. No one could scale a mountain and then the walls of the fortress.

She pressed her hands to his chest as she gave him a quick kiss. “I’m on my way to the tavern, Josephine asked me to entertain the marquis and friends.”

He grabbed a hold of her hand as she took a step back. “Can’t they entertain themselves?”

“Of course they can, but they’ll throw a fit and make our lives miserable. It’s easier for one of us to be there.”

When she gave his hand a squeeze and turned, Cullen finally caught sight of the back of her dress. Or rather, the lack thereof. He tugged her back toward him and she took several stumbling steps right into his arms. 

“Did you wear this dress for me?” She lifted her eyes to his and the fire in them told him everything he needed to know. “What’s underneath?”

He sucked in a slow breath as she held his gaze, her grey eyes darkening. He slid his hands down her body feeling for the telltale lines that should be there. Her nostrils slightly flared as she spoke, “Nothing.”

He groaned as his hands connected with the bare skin at her back. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Quite the contrary, I hoped to seduce you.”

The fingers skimming along the line of fabric at her lower back froze even as another part of anatomy stirred to life. “I thought you had to get to the tavern.”

“Not yet, no.” She shifted, rubbing her body against his as her hands worked their way along his waistline. “That time I was in Val Royeaux and I told you—”

He sucked in a breath as her hands expertly worked his buckle open and she slipped a hand inside his trousers. He was touching her, everywhere, loving the way she felt through the fabric of her dress.

His cock rejoiced as she wrapped her hand around him and gave him several slow strokes. “The one _specific_ time.”

“Here?” She’d brushed her thumb across the sensitive tip of his growing erection and he forgot what they were talking about.

“Mmhmm, on the ramparts.”

He removed her hands from his body and took several steps toward her, pushing her toward the side wall. He grabbed her hips and turned her, before pulling her flush against him. He nuzzled the back of her neck, his tongue darting out to play with the sensitive flesh of her ear. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” she happily hummed.

One hand kept her hips pulled tightly against his, but the other he lifted to press her forward. She braced herself against the wall. He rolled his hips toward her ass, his erection rubbing between her cheeks.

“Maker, your back is so… beautiful,” he told her as he caressed the bare skin, taking in the way it pebbled at each pass of his fingers. She arched her back and her ass again pressed at his crotch. He gripped her hips. “Ariana—”

“Please, Cullen,” she moaned, rolling her hips back toward him. “I want you to fuck me.”

His breath caught as he weighed the options. The sun may have set and darkness was descending over Skyhold, but they were still very much in public. Anyone could come upon them. “We can’t. Not here.”

“This once?”

“We both know it wouldn’t only be once.”

When Ariana arched her back deeper and looked over her shoulder at him, Cullen knew he had lost. “Then I’ll go to the tavern and—”

Cullen swung her toward the other wall and pressed her against it, his hands roaming over her curves. “And what, Ariana? Pretend you didn’t ask me to fuck you on the ramparts?”

She let out a low moan as his hands slipped around the front of her, one making its way to tease her breasts, the other slipping lower to rub between her legs. Both hands working her through the fabric of her dress. “I don’t think you will.”

“No,” she breathlessly agreed.

“Are you thinking about someone knowing about us right now?” He asked, continuing his attention. The way she was rubbing up against him, the soft sighs and low moans… She reached a hand back between them, rubbing at the front of his trousers.

She fumbled with one hand at the zipper to free his straining erection, finally taking it in hand as she did. Her hand was warm with perfect pressure as she stroked him. 

He pulled the skirt of her dress up around her hips and she arched her back deeper as his hands slid over her now bare ass. Cullen cast a quick glance behind him, making sure there was no one approaching. He shuddered as Ariana rubbed the head of his erection against her slick folds.

Without another worry, he plunged inside of her. There was no other feeling in the world like the way she felt around him. She was hot and wet and perfect. Everything he'd ever imagined she could be, no matter how many times they'd done this, each time with her was better than the last.

Ariana threw a hand over her mouth to muffle her cry as he pulled out then rocked back inside of her. His fingers tight and firm on her hips with each steady stroke.

He smoothed her hair away from her back, taking in the erotic bareness of it as he took her. He wanted to run his nails down it and mark her, so everyone knew that she was taken, but he settled for running his teeth along her shoulder. Ariana rewarded him with another low groan.

She grabbed one of his hands, moving it to her clit. He rubbed his fingers against her as he thrust inside of her, feeling the way her body clenched around him.

Maker, she was incredible. Everything about her was incredible. He knew she was close, he could feel the way she pulsed around him, her warmth clenching him as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Cullen...” she breathed. Cullen tried to focus on his fingers, on keeping a steady rhythm, but as she arched her back deeper still, he couldn’t think anymore, he could only feel. 

He pressed his lips to the back of her neck, trying to hold on as he drove himself inside of her several last times. “Ariana...” 

When she squeezed her inner muscles around him, Cullen shattered in pleasure as he emptied himself inside her. He was only vaguely aware that she had come undone alongside him. He briefly reveled in the feeling of bliss that had overtaken him, but awareness of their surroundings had him sliding out of her and pulling her dress down to make sure she was decent, in case anyone did come upon them.

As he tucked himself back into his trousers, Ariana turned, leaning against the wall for support. She grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him toward her. Cullen’s forearm landed on the wall next to her head as he stumbled forward. “That was… wow,” she purred as he lifted her mouth toward his. 

He gave her a quick peck before backing away, making sure both of them looked properly put together. Darkness may have fallen over Skyhold, but that didn’t mean they were alone.

Ariana ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it down around her shoulders, as she took several uneven steps forward. “That was fun.”

Cullen shook his head as the unease from earlier returned. “That never should have happened.”

“Why not?”

“Look at where we are! There are hundreds of people who might have seen us. _Hundreds_. Any one of whom might tell your sister.”

He couldn’t quite make out her face in the darkness, but he knew her well enough by now to know that she was frowning. 

He sighed, stepping close enough to feel the heat from her body, but he didn’t touch her. He lowered his voice, “It was fun. Sometimes I can’t believe that you’re mine.”

“Cullen, I’m not—”

“Let me have this.” His hands landed at her hips and he pulled her toward him, resting his forehead against hers. “For a moment, let me believe it.”

She didn’t argue as he stood there, breathing in the scent of her. He knew that their time was limited, but he wanted to burn the memories of her into his mind so that he would always remember, even long after she was gone.

It wasn’t long enough, but when she moved to slip out of his arms, he let her go. She disappeared down the stairs. Cullen waited several moments longer as he listened to the sounds of Skyhold around him.

He’d turned toward the mages’ tower to return to his office along the ramparts, when a scout approached. “Commander, is that you? I've been looking everywhere. Lady Montilyet requested to speak with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was lucky enough to commission the wonderful [Nipuni ](https://nipuni.tumblr.com/) for a portrait of my Trevelyan sisters based on the dinner party so... here it is!


	28. Chapter 28

Ariana watched as Evelyn stared out the window at the Winter Palace, her eyes slightly wider than usual as she took in the soaring white towers and the opulence of it all. Ariana had been to Halamshiral half a dozen times over the course of her life, but watching the awe on Evelyn’s face as she took in the grandeur of the palace brought a smile to her face. 

“This is marvelous,” Evelyn told her as she stared out the window. “I had heard of it’s beauty, but I… I had no idea.”

They were almost at the entrance, so Ariana leaned forward in her seat to look out the window to where a small welcoming party was gathered. She could make out several people wearing all black formal wear of the Inquisition, their golden accents and golden buttons shining in the sunlight. Her heart skipped a beat as she noticed Cullen at the front of the group.

She leaned back, frantic at the thought of how she must look after a long day of travel. She discreetly ran her hands over her hair as she checked for loose pins. Finding none, she took to smoothing the wrinkles at the front of her dress as much as she could with her hands.

Something had shifted since that Wintersend day and in the conversation that followed. It had deepened whatever it was they were doing. They’d never spoken of what was happening between them. It had only been four months, but Ariana knew that what they’d had was deeper than any relationship she’d been in before. Except for Laclan, maybe, but she’d been little more than a child. What did she know of relationships back then?

And now Cullen was standing there at the front of the crowd, looking every bit the man of her dreams that he was. She sighed, smoothing her hands over her skirt again. 

“Why are you primping?” Ariana shifted her gaze toward her sister who was watching her with narrowed eyes.

“It’s the Winter Palace. I don’t want to look out of place, even if we’ve been travelling for days.”

Evelyn gave her a look that said she didn’t believe her as their vehicle rolled to a stop. A steward stepped forward to open the door. Ariana smiled, “After you, Inquisitor.”

Her sister gave her one last glance, then stepped out onto the red carpet awaiting their arrival. Ariana watched Josephine take her arm while Cassandra and Leliana flanked her, blocking out many of the people who were trying to get close to her. She watched as the group took several steps toward the palace entrance until the crowd swallowed them whole.

Now that her sister was out of the way, she began her own exit from the vehicle. Someone stepped forward to assist her and she looked up into the warm amber of Cullen’s eyes as he stood with his hand outstretched.

Her back foot caught, sending her pitching forward toward the ground. His strong arms wrapped around her waist to prevent her from falling. He pulled her toward him, his firm body pressing against hers. The muskiness of his scent enveloped her, but he quickly released her, stepping back and clearing his throat. “Bann Trevelyan. Welcome to the Winter Palace.”

“Commander! What—” Ariana took a slow breath to calm her nerves. “I mean, why are you not with my sister?”

His smile was lopsided, the scar on his mouth quirking up in amusement. She watched his throat bob as he dropped his eyes to take in more of her, looking at the line of her cleavage in the deep v of her emerald green dress. When his eyes travelled back up to meet her own, his eyes had darkened into liquid gold. She held her breath as he held her gaze.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound setting her insides alight, a bolt of heat hitting her core. “She has plenty of help,” he husked, offering his arm for her to take. 

Ariana didn’t hesitate to take the opportunity to be near him as she wrapped her fingers around his forearm. Even through the fabric, Ariana could feel the heat of his body. She’d hoped that spending time apart would help quench the flames of what was going on between them, but she’d been wrong. The distance and the separation had only fanned them. Her body was alight with the burning intensity of needing to be naked, skin-to-skin, with this man. Preferably now.

“Besides, I didn’t miss your sister.” He cast a glance toward her, a smirk developing at her flushed cheeks. They stepped through the entrance to the palace and another steward greeted them, offering to show the way to her room.

“No, I’ll see her there myself.” Cullen’s tone was not aggressive, but it was firm, leaving no room for debate. The man bowed, his back painfully straight, as he backed toward the wall to disappear.

As they headed down the hallway toward the guest rooms, his voice dropped lower, “Do you want to know what I did miss since I’ve been here?” 

“You missed me, did you not?”

“I did,” he chuckled, “But aren’t you curious what about you I missed?”

“Yes.” The words escaped from her mouth, unbidden. She hadn’t wanted to give him the satisfaction, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “What did you miss?”

“Hmmm, where do I start?” He wondered aloud, turning his eyes up toward the ceiling in an attempt to look thoughtful. 

She rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. You miss sex.” 

He shot her a sharp glance out of the side of his eyes. “I’ll start with your lips. The lushness of them, the way they’re always begging to be ravished and teased. The way they look wrapped around me…”

As he trailed off, her tongue darted out to wet her lips. His eyes were riveted on them, tracking the progress of her tongue.

“I missed your tongue, too. The way you run your tongue over my cock, tasting… enjoying every inch of before you take me in between your beautiful lips.”

Her mouth opened in surprise at his words even as she felt a tightening between her legs. Once he’d gotten past his hesitance about her going down on him, he’d quickly come to enjoy it. She cast a wild glance around to see if anyone had heard what he’d said out loud. In public. But they were alone as they walked down the hall. 

“Anyone could hear you,” she admonished as she felt the heat rising on her cheeks.

“I don’t recall you being against that.”

She captured her lower lip between her teeth. He wasn’t wrong, but there was a difference between nighttime forgotten corners in Skyhold and the Winter Palace in the middle of the day. “Cullen…”

“When you say my name like that, it only makes me want to pull you into one of these alcoves and have my way with you.” She sucked in a breath and he lowered his voice, his gaze dropping to her chest as he did. “Your nipples harden beautifully when I so much as look at you. Your breasts fit perfectly in my hands, all the better to play with.” 

They progressed slowly down the hallway. Ariana had never been more aware of a man while also knowing that she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. 

“You must have been bored this week,” she offered.

“I won’t be distracted. Not when your discomfort is so enticing.” He ran his tongue over his lips and then closed his eyes, taking a deep inhale. “Am I turning you on?”

Ariana pressed her lips together and looked away. He’d been on fire like this a handful of times since they’d began sleeping together and the most incredible sex always followed. If she could only make it to her room...

Cullen deeply inhaled again. “I can smell you.”

“Of course you can.” She glanced around, hoping they were still alone, before continuing, “I’m so fucking wet right now.”

His eyes darkened. “I want to taste you until you’re screaming my name.” 

She considered what might happen if she _did_ pull him into one of those window alcoves, drew the shades, and let him take her right here in the hallway, but because she couldn’t see the servants didn’t mean they weren’t here.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to as he drew to a stop in front of an ornate white door, accented with gold, and raised his voice, “And here we’ve arrived at your room, Bann Trevelyan.”

His eyes glinted as he leaned toward her, lowering his voice, “You should also know how much I miss the way you feel when I’m buried inside of you.”

She didn’t care if anyone saw them. She grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him into the room with her, her lips finding his in a frantic kiss. Cullen kicked the door shut and lifted her into his arms before he strode over to the bed. She didn’t have time to react as he pulled her dress up. 

“Expecting this?” he teased as he noticed her lack of anything underneath in the split second before buried his face between her legs. Ariana dropped her head back and let out a loud groan as he lapped at her wetness with abandon. His fingers rubbed circles on her aching clit as his tongue probed between her folds, tasting and teasing her. 

Her orgasm surprised her, ripping through her in what felt like record time. Her back arched off the bed as she trembled under the intense attention of his mouth and hands. 

She had just started to come down when he pulled away, freeing his already hard cock from his trousers. He watched her as she focused her eyes on him, giving himself several long strokes before he crawled onto the bed in front of her.

“I missed you,” he told her. The vulnerability of his confession briefly passed over his face as he knelt between her legs and pressed the head of his cock at her folds.

“For the love of—fuck me already,” she told him, still breathless from the high of her pleasure. 

With a groan, he buried himself in her in one smooth thrust. She cried out at the fullness of him, at the sensation she had longed for in his absence. His hips thrusted into hers. At first in a practiced, comfortable tempo, but before long, he was pounding into her as though he wanted to be as deep inside of her as he could possibly go. 

He grabbed her legs, lifting her ankles up to his shoulders. Every thrust felt deeper than the last as he filled her completely. The way he felt inside of her was the most incredible sensation she thought she’d ever experienced. Would ever experience.

“Oh, Maker,” he murmured, dropping a hand down between them, his fingers once again rubbing a tight circle on her sensitive clit as he continued the steady tempo of his hips. He slid his cock almost all the way out before sheathing himself again fully inside of her.

Ariana pressed her head back into the mattress, feeling another tightening inside of her as he continued to fill her. She sucked in her breath and with a soft moan and his name on her lips, she came undone a second time, feeling the pleasure rocketing through her. As her muscles continued to clench around him, he thrust his hips one last time before he emptied his seed inside of her.

Cullen released her legs and collapsed on top of her. She wasn’t sure how long they lay like that, with his body wrapped around hers, as they both came back to the world of the living. 

When he finally pulled out, Ariana felt a deep sense of loss that she couldn’t explain. 

She looked up at him still kneeling between her legs. He was staring at her with a look of… was that distress? Whatever it was, he wiped the look away as he leaned down to take her mouth in a gentle kiss. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened it, her tongue darting out to trace the shape of his lips with the tip. She arched toward him, but he gripped her hips, holding her at a distance.

“Maker’s breath, already? I need a few minutes.”

“I guess I missed you, too,” she purred, nipping at his jawline as she pressed kisses along it.

He chuckled as he lifted a hand to her face. He didn’t say anything, only smiled down at her. The intensity of his gaze unnerved her, so she distracted herself by running her hands up his arms.

“You look really good in this uniform,” she told him. “The first time I saw you in it, I—” She pressed her lips together, cutting herself off, as she realized what she was about to say.

“The first time you saw me in it… what?” He asked as he leaned back on his knees and tucked himself back into his trousers.

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“It does,” he told her as he swung his legs around to sit on the side of the bed. “Tell me.” 

She joined him at the edge of the bed, nestling against his side. “I considered neglecting my mission.”

“You should have.” 

Ariana didn’t need to see his face to know the dark look he’d have. Especially because her mission that night was her date to the ball this evening. She turned toward him, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Don’t be angry.”

“What makes you think I am?” The question was a little too quick. A little too forced.

“Cullen…”

“It’s fine.” 

She sighed. “No, it’s not. Especially not when you’re wearing this uniform tonight and I’m forced to watch every man and woman in this palace want you.”

He tried to laugh, but it came out flat. “Welcome to my personal void.”

“You know I only have eyes for you.”

“But no one else does,” he told her as he slid off the bed. He smoothed his hands along his uniform to straighten any wrinkles.

“Does it matter?” she asked. 

“When I have to watch others flirt with you and know that I can’t do a damned thing about it? Yes. Yes, it does.”

She followed him off the bed and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m already jealous of anyone who gets to be seen with you tonight.”

He gave her a sharp look. “Says the woman who’s attending the ball on the arm of her ex-lover.” 

She pulled away from him at the sharpness in his tone. “Jean-Luc means nothing to me.” 

“Yet he’s the one you continue to appear in public with.” 

“Cullen…” 

“No, don’t. I’ve always known what this is.” 

Ariana’s hand flew to her mouth. Something inside of her painfully clenched at his words. “That’s not—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, following the words with a loud sigh. He looked as though he wanted to say more, but a sharp knock sounded from the door. 

Cullen’s nostrils flared as he strode to the unlocked door, reaching it in mere seconds, and pulled the door open to reveal Evelyn standing there. When Evelyn saw Cullen in Ariana’s room, her face grew wary. Her eyes darted between the two of them. “Am I… interrupting?”

“The commander showed me to my room after a quick tour of the palace. He was about to leave.” Ariana looked at Cullen, hoping the look betrayed less emotion than she felt at this moment. She hadn’t meant to argue with him, but the hiding and sneaking around was starting to wear on her.

Cullen turned toward her and gave her a stiff bow. “Good afternoon, Bann Trevelyan. Inquisitor.”

“Thank you for the tour, Commander. Shall I see you at the ball this evening?”

“At your service, my lady.” His tone was still too formal for her to be entirely comfortable, but he at least lifted his eyes to look at her as he straightened from his bow. With a last smile at her sister, he left, pulling the door tightly closed behind him.

Evelyn was staring at her, her eyes studying Ariana’s face. “Is everything all right? You don’t look… well.” 

Ariana gave her a tight smile. “Of course, Eve. I’m merely tired from the long journey today and I could really use a shower.”

Evelyn gave her another strange look. “Are you sure he wasn’t... bothering you?” 

“Bothering me? Cu—Commander Cullen? He would never.” 

Her sister glanced around the room. Ariana held her breath, hoping the bedding wasn't too wrinkled behind her. When their eyes met again, Evelyn's face was a careful neutral. It was a look Ariana knew all too well. It was the look their mother had worn when she was on to something and didn’t want anyone else to know. “Well, I trust you'd tell me if there was something I should know.”

Ariana focused on keeping her breath even. She didn't know what her sister knew—if anything—but she wouldn't be the one to out them. Not like this. Evelyn's eyebrows lifted a fraction as she continued, her voice matching her neutral face. “This room is rather cozy.”

“Cozy? Imagine what your room must look like then.”

“Leliana and Josephine would like for us all to get ready there, if you’d care to join?”

Ariana smiled. “I wouldn't miss it.”

***

Cullen watched her from his location on the upper level of the ballroom all night. She enchanted him as she moved, graceful and light. At times, she looked as though she were floating more than dancing. And sometimes, if he listened hard enough, he could almost hear her laughter tinkling across the ballroom.

The Inquisitor had been invited as a guest of Grand Duke Gaspard, but Ariana was here with Bechalet. That fact bothered him more than he’d thought possible, despite what she’d told him that afternoon. He’d not seen her again that day until she stood at the top of the stairs on the arm of the man as they were introduced to the court.

Ariana Kalista Freyja Trevelyan. Her names burned on his mind, each one more beautiful than the last. He wanted to know what they meant. Why her parents had given her those names. 

But before he could spend too much time wondering about her names, he noticed her dress. Black. Both high-necked and long-sleeved, but the top was made of lace, carefully placed over the more sensitive parts of her body. Through the lace, he could see the outline of her ribcage, the delicate swell of her breasts, and the slight definition of her abdomen as it dipped toward the fabric that made up the skirt. The black did not stand out against her tawny skin, but it didn nothing to hide it either.

His jaw tightened as she took a step forward down the stairs, noticing the two high slits in the skirt, one on each leg, rising dangerously close toward the junction of her upper thighs. She was breathtaking. He resigned himself to another long night of watching her being hit on from all corners without being able to do a damned thing about it. 

When she passed in front of him, arm in arm with Bechalet, she’d shot him a smoldering look from behind her golden mask. The look sent heat straight down his spine. What little he could see of her light grey eyes were painted to look sultry and her lips were an even deeper red than usual. 

He’d had to start trying to remember some of the most obscure verses of the Chant of Light as he willed his desire down so that he didn’t embarrass himself in front of the entire court. He’d have thought that afternoon would have helped slake his need for her, but his desire seemed to have a mind all its own.

A woman’s nasally voice interrupted his thoughts. “Can I get you a drink, Commander Cullen?”

“No, thank you.” He hoped the look on his face was sour enough not to betray his wandering mind… Or eyes, which were already back on Ariana as she twirled around the dance floor below them.

He knew she was nobility. He had known from the day she’d become his lover—indeed since the day he’d met her—that they could never be together. That her noble title would prevent that. She’d told him as much, but he’d found himself wanting it nonetheless. 

With each new partner that approached her, each hand that he watched slide down the small of her back, each pass along the curve of her hip… He felt his temperature rising.

A soft caress passed over his own backside, and he jumped, wildly looking around at the group surrounding him. One man looked particularly petulant behind his mask. 

“Did you just… grab my bottom?” Cullen asked, aghast at the man’s forwardness.

“I’m a weak man,” he drawled in response, winking. Cullen rolled his eyes and turned away.

Trevelyan was standing in front of him, her bright green eyes focused intently on him. “Inquisitor! Did you need something?” He nervously cleared his throat, pulling her away from the growing group. “The sooner we track down this infiltrator the better.”

“You’ve attracted a following. Who are all these people?” She gestured her hands at the group of people who’d surrounded him.

“I don’t know, but they won’t leave me alone.”

“I take it you’re not enjoying yourself.”

“At this point the headache I’m developing is preferable to the company.” It would be true, but he’d taken measures to ensure he didn’t develop one of his headaches this evening. He couldn’t risk it, with everything that was happening.

She smiled at his retort. As quickly and quietly as possible, Trevelyan filled him in on what they knew and she let him know they’d be following a lead in the servants quarters. Cullen made sure she was aware of the backup that was supposed to be stationed around the palace before she departed, a friendly pat on his arm and a commiserating grimace at the continually growing crowd around him.

Before long, the crowd parted slightly ahead of him as Ariana made her way up the stairs on the arm of Bechalet.

“Commander, has anyone ever told you that you have the most remarkable eyes?” Another voice, another vapid question.

Ariana’s head tilted in his direction, as though she were attempting to listen to what he would respond, but she did not look at him. He’d had enough. “Several times this evening already. Excuse me.”

Pushing through the crowd, he finally reached her. “Bann Trevelyan.”

She stopped walking, slowly turning to face him, while the other man feigned bored disinterest. “Good evening, Commander.”

“Might I have a moment,?” He shot a look at the man next to her. “Alone.”

Her eyes widened in concern at his tone. “Of course.” 

She smiled at Bechalet, excusing herself. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and murmured something in her ear before giving Cullen a polite bow. 

Cullen led Ariana out into the antechamber of the ballroom. 

“Is something wrong with my sister?” Her question was slightly panicked. Of course, she must have seen them speaking before she came upstairs.

“She’s fine.” He grabbed her upper arm, pulling her behind a pillar, away from the prying eyes of the other partygoers. “What in the Maker’s name are you wearing?”

He’d taken her by surprise. He could tell by the slight widening of the eyes, before she widened them further in faux innocence before they turned dangerously dark. “What? You don’t like my dress?”

“You know I do,” he hissed at her. “It’s only slightly less revealing than—Maker, every man and woman in this room is undressing you with their eyes. Not that they need to.”

“They can look all they want, but they’ll never see me.”

Cullen tilted his head as he considered her words. What did she mean they would never see her? Of course they did. She was a goddess, every inch of her perfection. Anyone who didn’t see that was blind. 

Her eyes were daring him to argue with her. He narrowed his back at her in response. All he wanted to do was take her, right here in the middle of the Winter Palace, so that everyone knew she belonged to him. 

She quirked her head to the side, studying him, as though she noticed the change. “Follow me.”

Ariana guided him through the crowd. This was her world and she effortlessly navigated it. Her mask covered her facial expressions underneath, but he had seen the raw desire in her eyes. She was leading him down a darkened hallway, toward the guest rooms, when she pushed him into a small alcove off the hallway. Her hands made quick work of the ties on the curtains, pulling them shut behind her. 

Before she could turn around, he was on her, his mouth at the back of her neck, his hands running up and down the curves of her body, over the lace of the dress. He palmed her breast through the lace, her hard nipples pebbling as he tweaked them, rolling them in between his fingers. She let out a moan, arching her ass into him. He felt himself responding to the sound of her cries and the feel of her in his hands and of her against him.

He spun her around, pushing her up against a wall as he slipped his thigh between her legs. She immediately began rocking against it as his mouth found her neck, kissing his way down across the lace on her chest to take one of her hard nipples in his mouth. She bucked almost violently against him in need. “Andraste, that feels so…” 

He swirled his tongue over the fabric of the lace, feeling the hard tip of her breast underneath it. When he lifted his other hand to keep teasing the other hardened peak, she dropped her head back against the wall. Her nipple popped out of his mouth as he finished the sentence for her, “Good.”

“Please, oh! Cullen—please…” she begged, her words staccatoed against each thrust of his thigh, each swirl of his tongue, and each squeeze of his finger.

“Please what?” He lifted his lips to meet hers, deeply kissing her as he continued to rub his thigh between her legs. Even through the fabric, he could feel how heated she was for him.

“Your mouth,” she gasped for air. “Need your mouth.”

He pulled away from her. She leaned against the wall for support, her lips swollen, chest heaving as she caught her breath. 

“Lift your dress,” he commanded. She scrambled to pull up the skirt of the dress, exposing her lacy panties to him.

They were black and matched the lace of her dress. With a groan, he dropped down to his knees in front of her, burying his face at the junction of her thighs. He could smell her arousal, the sweet honey scent calling to him, the song of desire reeling him in.

He traced his fingers along the edges of them, pressing one reverent kiss on the scrap of fabric before pulling it down along her legs. He helped her step out of them. Now bared to him, he ran his fingers along her wet folds.

“Always so ready for me…” He murmured, sliding one finger inside of her. Her muscles clamped around him, holding him in, and she let out a tortured sigh. He ran his tongue along her slick folds, lapping at her arousal. She bucked against him. He could feel her legs trembling already.

Cullen stood and deeply kissed her as he slipped a second finger inside of her. She clenched around him as he rubbed circles on her clit and pressed kisses to her cheek, before whispering in her ear, “Tell me what you want.” 

He pulled his fingers almost entirely out of her before slowly pressing them back inside, setting a slow pace as he slid his fingers in and out of her.

“More,” she begged.

“Specifically.”

“More of your mouth on me,” she mewled, the thrusting of his fingers picking up slightly at her admission.

“Where?”

“My—oh!” She gasped as he curled his fingers inside of her, the pace of his thumb picking up again as he pressed on her sensitive spot inside. “Between my legs.”

“Like… on your thighs?” he teased.

“Don’t be cruel.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Her grey eyes snapped open as they looked at him. “_Lèche ma chatte_.” 

He ran his tongue along her jawline and whispered in her ear, “In Common.”

“You know that one,” she groaned as strained her hips toward him.

He decided to oblige her. He dropped to his knees in front of her again. “I do know that one. Like this?”

He didn’t wait for a response as he lifted her leg over his shoulder and buried his mouth in her wetness. He pumped his fingers, harder, faster, as he wrapped his mouth around her clit.

She threw a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries as he sucked, his tongue flicking back and forth, over and over, as he pressed a third finger inside of her. With one last curl of his fingers and a hard suck on her clit, her body wound tight as a bowstring and then released. Her knees buckled and she slumped against the wall as he worked her through her orgasm. 

When she finally stopped quaking, he pulled away from her. Her eyes were heavy as they watched him through her golden mask, widening when he put the fingers he’d just fucked her with into his mouth, sucking them clean. He couldn’t see her entire expression at the moment, but their months as lovers told him she wasn’t yet finished.

His cock was hard, straining against his trousers when he reached down to free himself from the constraint. Her eyes hungrily darted down and she started to reach for him, but Cullen stopped her. Instead, he lifted her up against the wall, off the ground, and buried himself inside of her with a smooth motion. She let out a groan and wrapped her legs around him as she angled her hips to give him more leverage. 

He was so deep inside her, sheathed to the hilt, the wet heat of her clenching around him as she tried to pull him even deeper. He rolled his hips and she made a strangled noise of pleasure.

“Feel… so… good…” Each word was punctuated with a roll of his hips and a thrust deeper inside her. She was so hot, so wet, so ready. “I’m so close,” she pleaded.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You!” She gasped, hips meeting each of his thrusts. Her hands were splayed on the wall behind her. 

“Say my name,” he groaned into her neck.

“Cull—oh Andraste, Cullen!” Her hands were at his shoulders, fingers digging into them. Her hips rocked against him, her movements becoming more erratic with each thrust. He felt her beginning to tense around him. Her arms tightened around his neck as her heat tightened around his cock. 

“Come for me,” he commanded. She pressed her face into his chest in a muffled cry as she shattered around him. As her inner muscles milked him, time slowed for a split second before his own orgasm splintered through him, his seed spurting deep inside her as he came.

He was still panting when she dropped her legs to the ground. She was wrapped around him, enveloping him. As long as he had her at his side, he felt as though he could do anything. The feeling he’d been ignoring for weeks bubbled up inside him. 

“Ariana, I lo—” He snapped his mouth shut. _No._ He could not allow himself to finish the sentence, no matter how true it might be.

She gazed at him through the eye holes of her mask, her face unreadable. He cupped her face and dipped his head for a slow, sensuous kiss.

A bell began tolling from somewhere inside the palace. Their time was up. With a sigh, he slid out of her, feeling as though he’d lost another piece of himself. 

“You go first,” he shakily told her, one hand on the wall to keep his balance. They quickly helped each other straighten their clothing before she pressed a hand to his chest and her lips to his cheek. With that, she slipped through the curtains, back out into the crowd of the Winter Palace. 

Cullen’s heart clenched. He didn’t know how it happened, but each time with her was more incredible than the last. He knew they couldn’t be together. He had known since the day she’d arrived in Haven, breathtakingly beautiful, wild, and free. 

But he’d fallen all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Lèche ma chatte_ \- (French) Lick my pussy


	29. Chapter 29

When she rejoined Jean-Luc in the ballroom, he had a knowing look on his face. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him as they made their way through the crowd toward the garden. 

“I thought I lost my date,” he told her in Orlesian, his low voice tickling her ear.

Ariana gave him a look of her own in response, but Jean-Luc merely lifted his hand to her hair and tucked several loosened strands behind her ear. As they cleared the crowd, he leaned back toward her. “Clever, letting me believe he was your bodyguard. Imagine my surprise when I learned who he really is.” 

Ariana gave him a pretty smile as they stepped outside. “Your assumption suited me.”

“I can see the appeal, he is quite attractive.” He returned the smile, but his words held an edge. 

She was aware of the ears that followed them, even if no one appeared to be watching. They walked slowly, making their way toward the fountain before Jean-Luc pulled her under the portico, toward a bench tucked away in a back corner. 

He took her hand in his and began rubbing circles onto her palm with his thumb. To anyone watching they were just a pair of young lovers finding time alone in the middle of the ball. Nothing worth listening in on here. “What is it that you are doing with him?”

She scoffed as delicately as she could manage and gave him a flirtatious smile. “Stress relief.”

“Really? You are glowing.”

“Very good stress relief.”

Jean-Luc smiled as he studied her. “Is that all?” 

“This isn’t my first affair, you know.”

“Yes. I do know quite well, little dove, but I do not think _he_ does.” 

“Of course he does.” 

He paused as he leaned away from her and playfully danced his thumb up along her forearm. “What does the… Inquisitor—is it?—think? Surely she must have some opinion about her sister and the commander of her army.”

Ariana stiffened. Jean-Luc’s eyebrows lifted from beneath his mask and a calculating look appeared in his eyes. “Oh, I see. She does not know, does she? Now that is fascinating.” 

She leaned back, trying to see what he might be thinking. “Why did that feel like a threat?”

“It was not,” he told her as he wrapped an arm around her waist and lowered his head back toward her ear. “You could call it a warning though.”

“A warning?” Ariana cast a glance around to see if anyone else might be listening. Mercifully, they were alone. “Do you want me to stop seeing him? Is that it? I never took you for the jealous type, Jean-Luc. Especially when we’re not—” She abruptly stopped speaking as his lips curved up in a cold smile. 

“I had no idea what I had in front of me all those years ago, but I do now,” he told her in a low voice. 

Ariana pressed her lips together and took several slow breaths through her nose. Jean-Luc had been marking his territory for the better part of the year. Even as she’d noticed it, she hadn’t cared, but maybe she should have paid more attention to what he was up to. “And what is it that you want?”

“You. As my wife.”

Her stomach churned. Ariana dropped her voice as several people wandered too close. “Please tell me this is a joke.”

“No.” Jean-Luc’s phone began to buzz. He checked the caller ID before dropping the phone back in his jacket pocket. “We will marry within the year and hopefully an heir will follow.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything.”

“Ariana.” He lifted one of her hands, pressing his lips to the back of her palm as several more people wandered by them. “Marry me and you can have anything your heart desires. Anything at all.”

“Anything? Do you mean that?”

“I do.” 

“Does that include anyone?” 

“My, my. He must be good if you’re negotiating to keep him.” His mouth twisted in a fiendish smirk as he gave her another calculating look. “I always found Fereldan men to be rather... uncouth in the bedroom. Or is it that you like it that way?” 

Ariana pressed her lips together and looked away, toward the windows of the ballroom. The room had grown silent as a blurry couple spun in the middle of the dance floor, all eyes on them. 

“Interesting. _Bien_,” Jean-Luc continued, “After you give me an heir—a son—I will find a way to get him to court.” 

Ariana closed her eyes. Jean-Luc was exactly the kind of man her mother had always dreamed of for her. He was maneuvering to become emperor of Orlais some day. But now that the truth of what he wanted from her was out, she only felt a sense of dread.

It wasn’t that he loved her, she wasn’t naive enough to believe that. They got along well enough. He didn’t need her money, her title, or her lands. He had enough of that on his own and stood to gain more from both his aunt and adopted uncle. Something was off about all of this. It didn’t make sense. It had never made sense. “Why me?”

“You do not know?” He lifted his fingers to her chin and tipped her face towards his. 

“No.” She frowned. “You could have any woman in Orlais. Why me?”

“Because—” Jean-Luc’s phone buzzed in his pocket again. He’d ignored it the first time, but this time he pulled it out with a sigh. “My presence is required. We will have to continue this conversation later.”

“Jean-Luc, wait. Please tell me,” she insisted as he stood and took a step toward the ballroom.

He stopped and she watched him cast a quick glance at the sky, before he slowly turned to face her. The playful look, the flirtatiousness that had been there mere moments before, had disappeared. All that was left was a cool, appraising look. “My offer would have been enough for most women, but that clearly is not working for you, so let us try it this way, shall we?” 

He took a step toward her, his eyes dark in the shadows under his mask. Ariana fought the urge to recoil from the cold intensity that now emanated from him. “Why you? Because by some gift of the Maker, you inspire people. They would do anything for you. _I_ would do anything for you. With you by my side, I will return Orlais to greatness. I will drive back those who threaten our borders, I will wipe our enemies off the map, and I will give Thedas the greatest empire it has ever seen.” 

“What?” This man in front of her was not the Jean-Luc she knew. Her head was reeling from the whiplash. “What if I don’t—” 

“You do not have a choice. Understand that I am saying I will have you and I am not afraid to wage war on anyone who gets in my way.” Ariana stared at him in shock. “Whatever you are doing with him, end it now. I cannot have the future empress of Orlais involved with a dog lord.”

He started to turn, but paused. “And to be clear, that _is_ a threat.”

***

The party ended more subdued once the gruesome events of the night finished unfolding and the blood of a dead empress stained the ballroom floor. Cullen was grateful Ariana had missed the majority of what had taken place outside the ballroom, but he wished he could have spared her from what eventually happened inside.

He’d barely caught up with the Inquisitor before the empress began her speech. Trevelyan’s cold words pulled him out of the fantasy he had wrapped himself in and reminded him of the real purpose here. “The duchess will assassinate Celene personally. Wait for her to strike, then grab her.” 

He no longer recognized the woman in front of him. She was still in her Inquisition finery, the black material sharp against her tan skin and white hair, but… He had followed her here to the Winter Palace, for _peace_ negotiations for Makers’ sake, and she directed him to patiently wait on the side as she personally toyed with the strings of nations. As though it were some game. His thoughts briefly flashed back to his knight-commander in her last days in Kirkwall, but he forced the thoughts back down before they could get away. 

No. She was their leader. The one they would all follow to the ends of the earth. He had. And he would continue to do so. Trevelyan was nothing like Meredith.

She couldn’t be.

The hall was unexpectedly quiet, even more so for an Orlesian ball. There had been a sense of forced festivity in the ballroom as people attempted to celebrate the ascension of a new emperor, but out here in the hallways it was blessedly empty. Less eyes to see where he was headed.

The door opened on his first knock. Ariana glanced up and down the hallway behind him to make sure no one was watching, that no one had seen. There had been a time he’d appreciated her cautious nature, her ability to ensure that their relationship remained a secret, but now… Now he wished he could shout it from the rooftops.

He was hers and he wanted everyone to know it.

He’d wanted to dance with her tonight. To take her in his arms and spin her around the room in front of everyone. He wanted to lead her back to their room with his hand on the small of her back, whispering all the dirty things he wanted to do as soon as they were alone. But more than that, he wanted to walk with her along the ramparts at Skyhold, her hand in his, stopping to kiss her whenever he felt like it. He wanted to leave the war council meetings and know that she was waiting for him.

He wanted all of Thedas to know that this woman was his.

But the stark reality of this moment proved that he was no more than her secret lover sneaking in under the darkness of night.

She let him into the room, her silk robe tightly wrapped around her body and a stressed look on her face. He hadn’t seen her in the aftermath of the assassination. Probably because the agent he’d tasked with her protection had removed her from the room as soon as the fighting began. 

Cullen ran a hand through his hair as he thought about how he’d wanted to stay by her side to make sure she was safe. But his duty was first and foremost to the Inquisition and, with that, to the Inquisitor. Her sister. 

Maker. These feelings he had for Ariana Trevelyan were dangerous. A danger to his duty and a danger to his heart.

They didn’t speak. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, inhaling the scent of her as he willed his ricocheting emotions to calm themselves inside of him. Her arms snaked around his waist and they stood like that as the seconds ticked by, finding solace in each other.

When the beating of his heart finally slowed, he pulled back and pushed the tendrils of hair away from her face.

“I was unprepared for tonight,” she told him. She didn't meet his eyes, instead staring at his chest after she said the words. There was something vulnerable there.

“I know.” He stepped away from her and began to undress, dropping his clothes haphazardly over various pieces of furniture. Her eyes widened and he gave her a tired smile. “It’s been a long day. Let’s get some sleep.” 

After he’d discarded his clothing, he climbed into bed, pushing the sheets back for her to join him. She dropped the robe she’d been clutching onto the floor and crawled into bed next to him, laying her head on his chest as she settled in.

“Tonight was horrible,” she whispered into his chest. His heart ached at the way she shook in his arms and the way her silent tears dampened his chest.

“I know.” Cullen didn’t want to think about it anymore. He wanted to be engulfed in this moment, surrounded by her. He pressed gentle kisses to the top of her head. “Tomorrow will be better.” 

***

When he woke, his body was wrapped around her. Her back pressed into his chest. He had one arm under her head and the other resting on her hip… A hip that was currently pushing her backside into his crotch, making him almost painfully aware of his morning erection.

She shifted in her sleep and arched into him. She wasn’t doing it intentionally, but he was only human. 

His hand on her hip roamed further up her body, sliding down across the silky smoothness of her stomach, up towards her chest. He trailed his fingertips along the swell of her breast, the soft sigh that escaped her lips encouraging him to continue his attentions. 

She shifted again, her hips pressing back against him. His cock was nestled between them and he involuntarily thrust toward her as she arched further into him. His hand cupped her breast as he began to kiss her shoulder, moving up along the line of her neck.

“Yes, Cullen,” she sighed again, arching her back to press closer to his body. He dropped his hand from her breast to the juncture between her thighs, lazily running his fingers along her folds as she ground against him, shifting between his hand and his body. 

Ariana moaned as she covered his hand with her own, encouraging him to touch her harder. To touch her faster.

“We have all morning,” he teased as she tried to push him for more. 

She moaned again and slid her hand behind her, between their bodies, to stroke his erection. Her fingers were electric when they wrapped around him and for a moment, he forgot to breathe at the feeling of her hand on him. She stroked him, fingertips dancing around him, lighting up every sensation he could feel in that moment.

He dipped his fingers inside of her, feeling how wet and ready she already was for him. Her grip around him tightened as he began pumping his fingers into her, pausing only to coat her clit in her arousal and rub circles around it before sliding them back inside of her. He could hear how her chest tightened, seeing it heave with each breath, how the motions of her hands were more erratic with each stroke. 

She pressed into him and asked—no, begged—for him.

When he removed his fingers she cried out, her hands grasping to find them and put them back. But he wanted to feel her around him, needing to feel her come undone. He nipped at her shoulder as he pulled on her thigh, bringing her leg over his hip to open her to him. He positioned his cock at her entrance as he continued the attention of his mouth at the back of her neck. 

“Cullen, please!” She cried, clutching at any part of him she could reach.

With one hand on her hip, the other wrapped around her body, he pressed into her as slowly as he could bring himself to enter her. Her wetness enveloped him, welcoming him home. He didn’t know how many times they’d done this, how many times he had been inside of her, but each time it was the deepest sense of fulfillment he’d ever known.

Once he was fully inside her, shafted completely to the hilt, he pulled out equally as slow. He’d wanted to move slowly, letting her feel every inch of him each time he buried himself in her, but her cries grew more frenzied, her movements frantic, and she tried to pull him further and deeper any way that she could. 

He was focused on her shoulder, the same one he’d been teasing with his lips, licking and sucking in time with the movement of his hips, as his fingers played with her breasts when she dropped her own hand to her clit and began pleasuring herself.

She was close. He knew it by the sounds she made, by the way she tightened and throbbed around him. Maker, if he could only capture this moment and hold onto it forever... This moment was the one that he wanted to hold until the end of his waking days, even if he never had her again. This moment with her, wrapped in his arms and coming undone around him.

He memorized the way her body felt under his fingers, the ways she sounded in his ears, the unbelievable sensation of her as she throbbed and quivered around him. When she tensed, her body withdrawing into itself, he knew she was at the edge.

“Come for me.”

At those three simple words, she exploded. Her hips pressed into him as she arched her back and the angle of his cock shifted at her movement. 

“Cullen...” she moaned, the rumble from deep within her chest reverberating against his own. His name on her lips always pushed him closer to that place of pure bliss. When she finished convulsing, he pulled out of her, her cries at the loss of him a feeling he knew all too well. 

If he could be inside of her for the rest of his life, it still wouldn’t be long enough.

He pulled her on top of him, shifting her so that she straddled him and slid back inside of her. His lips met hers in a ravaging kiss, his lips demanding as they collided with hers.

Ariana gyrated against him, her eyelids heavy as she came back down from her orgasm. Her hands were splayed across his chest before moving up to grip his shoulders, her breasts pressing into him, her wetness sliding down over his cock. He gripped her hips as she ground on him, their lips crushed against each other, tongues and teeth tangling, as they attempted to make love to each other's mouths like their bodies were doing right now.

She dipped her head to his neck, her tongue swirling around the sensitive spot at the base. He throbbed inside of her as she grazed her teeth along his collarbone, moving her lips toward his shoulder.

“Ariana,” he groaned. Earlier, when he’d taken her from behind, he’d thought that was the most incredible feeling in the world, but now… Now he knew that it was this moment when he could see her falling apart. He could see her grey eyes clouded with lust, feel her body wrapped around his own, hear the sounds of pleasure she was making, smell the scent of their lovemaking, and taste the saltiness of her on his tongue… Maker’s breath.

“Cullen,” she murmured, her eyes falling closed. “Come with me this time.”

He didn’t need more encouragement. The two of them pushed each other toward completion, each one knowing how to drive the other toward pleasure. When she started to come, he held her face in his hands and met her eyes, the depth of passion and emotion within them pushing him over the edge.

He pressed his forehead to hers, each of their eyes connected with the other’s, as her body convulsed around him and his body jerked in his release. He gazed into her eyes as they came undone together and it was though he glimpsed her very soul. The rawness of emotion in her eyes dismantled whatever defenses he’d had left. 

The words slipped out before he could stop them, no more than a whisper in the aftermath of the most world-shattering experience of his life. 

“I love you.”


	30. Chapter 30

_I love you_. 

With those three little words, her world split apart. The whisper that changed everything.

She wanted to scream as the shudder ripped through her at hearing the words said aloud. He couldn’t love her. Not after last night. He should have listened to her. Her hands pressed into his chest as she tried to get some distance from him. “Take it back.”

He stared at her as though she’d slapped him. She might as well have. She never should have let it get this far, but he’d known… They’d had that conversation, she knew they did. She’d told him they could never be together. He knew, he had to have known. 

“I can’t—It’s... it’s been bursting out of me. I had to say it. I _needed_ to say it. I need you to know.” He lifted his hand toward her face, but she jolted away from him, lifting herself off his lap and sliding toward the edge of the bed.

He’d _agreed_. What was he doing changing the rules now? Especially now. Panic gripped her. Oh Andraste, she had to end this. Now that he’d said it, there was no going back. No pretending like they could keep it under wraps. She had to. She _had_ to. For him.

She had no doubt that Jean-Luc would make good on everything he’d threatened. She had to end it.

“Ariana—”

“No.” She stood, scrambling about the room to find a cover. She picked through the clothes, needing something, anything. When she finally located her robe, she pulled it tight around her naked body. Another layer of security. 

“I told you not—”she sharply inhaled to hold back the emotion creeping into her voice—“Not to fall in love.” Her voice had taken on an unnatural tone. It was her noble voice, the voice she adopted when she was trying to distance herself from whatever was happening. Whatever bad was happening. Because it was always bad when she had to take on this voice. It was her security, her separation from the thing happening in front of her. She had to focus on it. It was the only thing that held her together.

He’d followed her off the bed, his hands reaching for her. She stepped back again, needing to keep the distance between them. If she didn’t have the distance, she didn’t know what she would do. She might agree to anything he asked of her if only he touched her.

He looked so beautiful right then. It was an odd thought, since he hadn’t yet realized the magnitude of what was happening. The morning light highlighted his tousled golden hair and the definition of his muscles leading down to his cock, still wet with her arousal as it softened. 

Her heart painfully clenched and she felt every fragment of her heart as it shattered. She fought back the sob that tried to escape her chest. 

“Things change,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Not for me.” She turned her face away from him, unable to look him in the eye as she lied to him. One breath in, one breath out. Don’t cry. “Why couldn’t what we had be enough?”

“Because I—”

“No!” She squeezed her eyes shut as she took another steadying breath. She couldn't let him explain. Couldn't let him talk her out of this. “I made myself clear.”

His voice changed as her words fell hard on him. “Ariana…” 

She stepped back again as he moved toward her, keeping out of his reach. “No.”

His palms were lifted toward her, but at her outburst, he curled his hands into fists and dropped his arms by his sides. He stood in front of her with a look that was part hope and part heartbreak. His eyes seared into her, almost as though if he stared hard enough, he could will her to love him in return.

She wanted to touch him, wanted to take him in her arms and tell him that everything would be okay. But she couldn’t. They couldn’t. It wouldn’t be okay. Those three little words had set in motion their undoing. She couldn’t be with him. Not like he wanted. Not like she wanted. For the first time in a decade, she felt hopeless. Everything was slipping away from her. Everything was falling apart.

“I…” She paused, attempting to build up the courage to say the words she needed to say, “I think we need—_I_ need—some time. Alone.” 

The hope in his eyes extinguished. They stood there for several seconds longer before he bent down to pick up his trousers off the floor. 

She fought back the tears that were threatening to take over as he pulled them on, followed by his shirt and his formal jacket, crumpled from spending a night on the floor. He sat down on the ottoman in front of the fireplace as he pulled on his boots, with agonizing slowness. 

She dared not move. She dared not even breathe for fear she would take it all back. That she would beg him to forgive her, to love her, to fuck her, and to fuck _everything_ and run away with her. 

And that… that was too dangerous a thought to entertain. It would be the destruction of everything she held dear. Again. She couldn’t live with that. 

When he finished dressing, he stood and stared at her expectantly. She stared back, filled with hope and dread of what he might say next. 

But he said nothing as he turned and walked to the door. When she heard the door click quietly behind him, she sank to her knees. Silent sobs wracked her body as she sat in the middle of the floor. 

The words were no more than a whisper when she finally spoke. “Goodbye, Cullen.” 

***

Josephine had business in Val Royeaux immediately following the negotiations at the Winter Palace. The ambassador had invited Evelyn, but Evelyn asked Ariana to accompany Josephine when it became clear her presence would be required in Halamshiral longer than anticipated. She would also be departing for Crestwood as soon as she could get away. Hawke had sent an urgent message and Evelyn wouldn’t have time for the detour to Val Royeaux. Ariana gladly accepted the assignment, relieved at the opportunity to avoid returning to Skyhold with the rest of the party.

She’d not seen Cullen after he left her room that morning. From conversations around her, she’d gleaned that he had been stuck in endless meetings with the new Emperor Gaspard. The man was already demanding time and money of the Inquisition. The knowledge that Jean-Luc was also in those meetings with him settled like a stone in the pit of her stomach. It was a subtle threat, but a threat all the same. That he could easily reach Cullen, at any time.

She had no choice.

A warm breeze rustled Ariana’s hair and brought her back to the present moment, staring out across the Waking Sea. Over the past several weeks, she had relived their last conversation in her head more times than she cared to admit.

She’d finally acknowledged that his admission hadn’t been wholly unexpected. She’d been sensing the shift in their relationship for some time. But it was the most unfortunate timing. If he’d managed to keep it to himself, they might have been able to continue, but as it was...

A loud sigh escaped her lips. It wouldn’t have mattered. In the weeks that she’d thought about it, she knew she would have had to end it anyway. The secret was eating them both alive and with Jean-Luc’s threat hanging over her head… she would have cracked under the pressure. 

Val Royeaux was supposed to be an escape, a break from all that. The favor had seemed innocuous, attend a few meetings with Josephine and spend time in the capital city, but yesterday the trip had taken a dark turn. They would be leaving for Skyhold today. 

Ariana still wasn’t ready to face Cullen. She would have to tell him that it wasn’t some time apart, but that it was over. That everything was over. Andraste, she had been such a fool. They never should have gotten involved.

Every time they received an update from Skyhold, she held her breath and wondered if there would be something for her. And every time Josephine gave her an update from him with no message for herself… It hurt far more than it should have.

She tamped down the voice inside her whispering that it could be worth the risk. She was not willing to entertain the thought. Jean-Luc had been clear in his threat. She cared too much for the Inquisition, and for Cullen, to not take his threats seriously.

It would be better this way. She would marry Jean-Luc and Cullen would move on. One day he would remember her as no more than another affair, like the string of women he’d left behind in Kirkwall. She would be the Skyhold affair. Or one of them. 

She folded over as the pain from the thought clenched inside her. Most days she felt like she wouldn’t survive it. It had wrapped itself around her heart, tightening into a chokehold every time she thought of life without him. And his life without her. She fought the emotions rising within her. No, she wouldn’t cry. Not here. Not now. Everything was as it should be.

“Ariana?” Josephine interrupted her thoughts as she stepped out onto the balcony. 

Ariana straightened, forcing a mask of normalcy over her face. She didn’t want to worry her friend, not when Josephine already had so much to worry about for herself.

“Have you heard anything unusual lately about military movement?” Josephine continued.

“Which military? Orlais?” Ariana asked. “The late empress’s men have all sworn their allegiance to Gaspard. As far as I can tell, there’s no current movement from the north.”

“Have you heard from… your friend?”

“Jean-Luc? I have not heard from him, no.”

“No?” Josephine questioned, her voice betraying her surprise. “We’ve… That is, the Inquisition, has received a request from Halamshiral for your lineage.”

Ariana lifted her eyebrows. “Who is Halamshiral? Is it still Pierre?”

“You don’t know? Comte Pierre was executed for his disloyalty.” Josephine frowned. “Duke Bechalet was granted the city as a reward.”

Any hope Ariana had had that he wouldn’t follow through on his threats disappeared and an emptiness spread through her. Jean-Luc had been true to his word that he intended to marry her.

“How would you like to proceed?” Josephine asked.

Ariana shrugged. “Send it. He might take it as a personal affront if you don’t.” 

“As you say. Oh! Regarding the military movements, the Inquisitor noted rumors of unusual Grey Warden activity in the west. We wondered if you had picked up anything here.”

“Grey Warden? I suppose that makes sense given the archdemon, but I was under the impression that this was not a Blight?”

“As far as we can tell, but that still remains to be seen.” Josephine gracefully flopped into the chair next to her. How the ambassador could make everything look so graceful was beyond Ariana’s comprehension. “Well, perhaps it’s time we start the return journey. It shall be so good to return to Skyhold.”

“Will it though?” Ariana mused, “I’ve half a mind to return to Southwatch. I don’t believe I’m needed at Skyhold any longer.”

“Not needed? Why do you think that?”

“I don't do anything for the Inquisition.”

Josephine eyed her. “May I speak plainly?”

“For Andraste’s sake, Josie, you can always speak plainly.”

“There are many of us at Skyhold who need your presence. Your sister, Leliana, myself, even Cullen… We all appreciate your expertise and knowledge.”

Ariana scoffed, “My expertise? Surely you jest.”

“Bann, do you truly not realize how valuable you have been to us? Both as an equal and, if I do say so myself, a friend.”

Ariana grasped for Josephine’s hand next to her. The two women sat in silence for several moments before Ariana ventured, “Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“How do you balance your duty to House Montilyet and the Inquisition with your own desires?” 

“I know my duty. House Montilyet shall always come before what I want.” At the look on Ariana’s face, Josephine quickly asked, “That wasn’t a rhetorical question was it?”

Ariana shifted her eyes away from her friend. 

“Bann—”

“Josie, please.”

“Then, Ba—Ariana,” Josephine ventured, “I have a family that I have to consider. As the eldest, it’s been my responsibility. I take my duty seriously.”

Ariana sighed. “Duty.”

“It is not exclusive of… other pursuits.”

“You and I both know that’s not entirely true.”

Josephine shifted her gaze out to the ocean. “Yes, well—”

“Duty doesn’t keep me warm at night.”

“I know.” 

Ariana leaned back in her chaise, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face. “Halamshiral, huh?”

“Are you certain it is all right if I send your lineage?”

“You had better. He won’t take it well if you don’t. Besides, my mother prepared me for this from a young age. The favored nephew of an emperor would surely be acceptable to her.”

Josephine gave her an indulgent smile, but there was no warmth there. The two women lapsed into silence as Ariana’s thoughts wandered back to the events of Halamshiral, before going further. All the way back to the day that Cullen Rutherford walked through that door in Haven and into her life. The man had upended her focus, her dreams, and her heart. 

She’d found her sister with the Inquisition, but she’d also found so much more.

And it would never be hers.

***

She walked along the ramparts as the sun began to rise on the already too warm spring morning. Even though it was almost summer, which she only realized as she avoided another heap of wood in her path. The pyres for the Summerday fires had been erected along the ramparts and down the valley toward the camp, ready to be set alight at sunset.

Another sleepless night, although, that wouldn’t be anything new. Ariana hadn’t slept since Halamshiral. She couldn’t be alone with herself and with her thoughts.

It had taken several days after returning to Skyhold for her to work up the courage to speak to him again. He’d known she’d returned, he had to have known. Every piece of security, diplomatic or otherwise, passed over his desk, but he’d given her space.

She’d told him she needed to be alone and he’d given her the distance she’d asked for. She did not deserve him. 

It had been late that night. She’d been pacing her room for what felt like hours before she finally made her way down toward the chapel. She knew he was there, as though Skyhold herself told her, but she patiently waited for him to exit.

“Ariana?” He’d asked, seemingly disoriented in the low light of the new moon.

She hesitated at first, but when she’d gathered her courage, she’d led him up to the ramparts. To the place she knew that no patrol would visit that night. To the place she knew no one would see.

Determination coursed through her at what she needed to do. She told herself it was for all of them. For the Inquisition. But the reality was that it was for him. He would never know that, but she was doing it to protect him.

She ignored the now familiar clench of pain inside her as she told him, “We need to talk.” 

He looked out across the darkness where the mountains should be. The darkness of the night meant there was no one to witness their exchange. No one to see her heart shatter. Not even him.

“This is goodbye,” she told him, staring out at the blackness as he did. 

His shoulders sagged and he sucked in a breath. “Ariana, you don’t have to—”

“I never should have let it get as far as I did.”

She felt more than saw the pain in his eyes, felt the pain radiating from him in frantic waves. “Please don’t do this,” he quietly told her. He reached his hand toward her and his fingertips grazed hers, like a murmured prayer of hope.

“I have to.” She forced a coldness into her voice even as her heart ruptured. “I will never love you.” 

That had been five days ago. A lifetime by her estimation. Every time she saw him from a distance, every time she heard his voice, her very heart felt as though it would never be whole again.

She was jolted back to the present when she heard voices on the small landing in the corner of Skyhold. Her eyes landed on the white hair of her sister deep in conversation with a dark blond man. Her heart flipped at the thought of him, she wasn’t prepared, wasn’t ready to face him. She would turn around right now, go back the way she’d come...

Although… a thought tugged at the edge of her consciousness. It was curious that Evelyn would be out here with Cullen at this early hour. She wouldn’t have been surprised to find him here, but Evelyn normally wasn’t. But then... it wasn’t him, was it? The man’s hair was too coppery. A red she’d mistaken for the warm rays of the morning’s sunrise. His uniform was a touch too understated in a greyish-blue instead of Inquisition olive drab.

The man put his hand on her sister’s shoulder in an oddly friendly manner and Evelyn warmly smiled up at him. That was the moment Evelyn noticed her standing there and directed her smile at Ariana over the man’s shoulder. The man turned his head to follow Evelyn’s gaze. His eyes widened and his mouth slightly opened as their eyes connected. The seconds ticked by as neither of them moved. Then his eyes scanned her body, the familiar warmth within them drawing Ariana to them. 

It had been five years since they’d ended things, five years since he had wanted more than she could give, five years since she let him walk out of her life... And five years since she did not follow. She’d thought that goodbye had been for good.

“Warden Alistair, I believe you’ve met my sister?” Evelyn’s voice was careful, but by the teasing lilt to it, Ariana wondered if she knew about their history. That would have been a story Hawke would have loved to have shared.

“Warden, what a surprise.” Ariana swept down the steps and held her hand out to shake, but Alistair wrapped his hand around hers and flipped it, giving the back of her palm a gentle press of his lips.

“I was surprised to hear you were in Ferelden, Ari—” He cleared his throat and glanced at Evelyn out of the side of his eye. “Ahem. I mean, Bann Trevelyan. I recall you refusing to set foot here.”

“Well, it’s a very good thing then that this is Orlais. At least I’m consistent.”

“How long have you been in the south?” Alistair asked, abandoning any pretense that they weren’t already well acquainted.

“Ten months.”

His brow furrowed as the words hit him. “That long?” 

Evelyn cleared her throat to get their attention. “I’ll give you two a moment. Excuse me.” Evelyn gave her sister a quick squeeze on the arm before disappearing up the steps to the ramparts.

When she’d gone, they silently stood there for several more beats of her heart, awkwardly staring at each other. 

“Maker’s breath, are you a sight for sore eyes.” He stepped toward her and lifted his hand to brush the flyaway strands from her face. “Would it be too forward if I said I missed you?”

She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of him. Memories of their snatches of time together, quick moments amongst the instability, flooded into her. Memories she’d tamped down in the ensuing chaos and outbreak of war, not wanting to worry, not wanting to know where he was or who he was with. 

His honey brown eyes were searching her face as she opened her eyes, her answer left unspoken.

“Warden! I’ve been looking for you!” Cassandra came barreling down the ramparts as she shouted at him.

Alistair stepped back and Ariana took a deep breath before she turned around. Alistair put on a flirtatious smile. “Seeker, how lovely you look this morning.” 

Cassandra grunted as she rushed down the stairs, pulling up short in front of Ariana. “Oh, good morning, Bann! I did not realize you were with the Warden.” 

Turning to Alistair, she took a breath to continue. Alistair took the opportunity to interrupt her. “Seeker, I haven’t even had breakfast yet, so make it quick,” he quipped. 

“We’ve received some intelligence from the Western Approach, the situation is… escalating. The Inquisitor has called a war council. You should come at once.”

“But she was just here?” 

Cassandra quizzically lifted her eyebrows in response. 

He sighed, “I’ll come directly. Just give me…” He glanced over at Ariana with longing in his eyes, “A few minutes.”

Cassandra’s eyes shot back and forth between the two of them. Ariana hoped her face was much more neutral than she felt right now as the emotion roiled around inside her. To be so close to him again was disconcerting. Her emotions were in an uproar. She didn’t know how to feel, but she knew there was something comfortable about him. Something familiar. Something reliable. Something that made her forget the utter chaos of her heart right now.

“Of course.” Cassandra turned on her heels and headed back the way she came.

Alistair sighed again as he held out his arm to her. She tucked her arm in his and they headed up the stairs arm in arm. “So where would I find this ‘war council’? I got lost last night trying to find the shower room.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially, “Truth is, that’s why I was on that landing. Couldn’t find my way to breakfast.”

The laugh slipped out before she could shut it down. He was always so ridiculous, she couldn’t help but laugh when she was around him. It was part of what had drawn her to him to begin with. Amidst all the darkness, he had given her levity.

“Come, I’ll show you a shortcut.” She led him along the ramparts toward the mages’ tower, showing him the stairs into the garden, empty at this early hour.

“Wow, Hawke wasn’t kidding, this place _is_ nice.” He looked around, taking in the Chantry decorations of the garden.

“I assume that’s yours?” He said, gesturing with his head to the small herb garden.

She gave him a teasing smile. “No, it was already there when we arrived.” 

He snorted as he watched someone walk through the garden. Ariana saw him do a double take. “Maker’s breath, is that Cullen Rutherford?” 

Ariana followed his gaze to see Cullen and Cassandra walking toward the great hall, Cullen solemnly nodding as Cassandra spoke. His body was tense, eyebrows furrowed as he listened.

Ariana felt sick, a pit forming in the base of her stomach as Alistair continued, “Wow, I didn’t think I’d see him again. What’s he doing here?”

“Commanding the Inquisition’s forces.” She shouldn’t have been surprised, but she couldn’t help herself, “You know him?”

“Aside from his Templars being the reason I had to leave the Free Marches, you mean?”

“Well, yes, aside from that. We never interacted with him then.”

“We trained as Templars together, for a time, and crossed paths during the Blight. Hey! Rutherford!” He shouted, waving his arms to get his attention. 

Ariana wondered for a split second if she could disappear behind a statue, but Cullen’s eyes immediately focused on her as he turned. The intensity of them took away her breath as time seemed to hold still.

She wasn’t going to fall apart. She wasn’t. She had ended it for Andraste’s sake. She had done it for him.

Alistair grabbed her arm and dragged her towards them. Cullen turned to focus on the man at her side and his face darkened. “Theirin.”

Cassandra’s face contorted into a look that could be described as surprise. “You know the Warden, too?”

“Too?” Cullen asked.

“We trained together!” Alistair pulled up short of them, his hand remaining on Ariana’s elbow. Cullen darted his eyes down to Alistair’s hand and his face darkened further. Alistair continued, oblivious, “It’s been… what, twelve years? You look better than the last time I, uh, saw you.” 

Alistair released her arm and held his hand out to the commander.

“I’d imagine so.” Cullen’s voice was tight, but he grasped Alistair’s hand in a firm shake.

“So we’re good, right?” Ariana was surprised by the touch of nerves in Alistair’s voice, a quick glance in his direction showed a look of concern written across his face.

“We both said things we regret.”

“Whew.” Alistair let out a breath and gave a tense laugh. “So, are you heading to this war room? Can I walk with you? This place is massive!”

Cullen nodded and indicated he should join them. 

Alistair wrapped an arm around Ariana’s waist in an intimate gesture as he pressed his lips to her cheek. “I’ll see you later then?” 

She absentmindedly nodded in response. Cullen narrowed his eyes at the interaction, his eyes shooting daggers at the Grey Warden, although Alistair didn’t seem to notice. He turned to Cassandra and began animatedly talking as they walked away. 

Cullen stared at Ariana for a moment longer, eyes hard, lips pressed into a firm line. 

“Cullen, I—” 

He shook his head and turned to follow the others, leaving her standing alone under the portico.


	31. Chapter 31

The images flashed across the screen in front of him, the bright glow doing little for his headache in the low light of the command center. All over the fortress people hurried around adding the finishing touches for the Summerday festival that was to begin at sundown.

Cullen laid his head down on the desk to rest his eyes as the world continued to flash by in front of him. He’d begun to hate Orlais and the endless parties and festivities, constant diplomatic guests, and the unending pressure that all put on him.

These days he’d felt more like he was the security manager for a wealthy noble rather than the commander of an army. In normal circumstances that would be a good position, one he’d be happy to have. One that was stable where he could provide for a family. A life he’d never really thought possible until...

No. He was not following those thoughts, especially as the world around him crumbled into war and chaos. At least the pointless civil war in Orlais had officially come to an end. Gaspard would be a good ally for the Inquisition from a military standpoint, should it come to that.

He lifted his head up and began scanning the screens again, absentmindedly scratching at his forearm as the images shifted and changed, rotating between feeds from cameras set up around Skyhold. He’d had them installed after the peace negotiations, after Cullen realized the betrayal could come from inside the keep itself, from a trusted member. At least then they’d have some warning. He hoped.

One camera shifted to the outer courtyard, outside the tavern, and his heart leapt in joy—and relief—at the familiar shape of her as she crossed the camera’s path. Then came the seizing, the tight grip of pain that wrapped around his heart. 

Cullen counted his breaths, one in and one out, until the grip loosened and he no longer felt as though he were drowning.

Today had been hard, harder than the others. Before today he’d hoped they could get past it. In the preceding month he’d gone over it in excruciating detail, wondering how and where he’d gone so wrong, how he’d misread her so completely, and he had managed to convince himself that he hadn’t.

She’d asked for space and he’d given it. Then she told him it was over with such finality that he hadn’t known how to react, but he’d still hoped.

Until this morning. Until she had Alistair bloody Theirin’s arm wrapped around her. 

That chance meeting in the garden was some cruel twist of fate. Or could one call it a blessing, since he’d been able to see it first hand? To know that when she said it was over and she would never love him, she’d meant it. 

For the love of the Maker, he couldn’t believe he’d misread her so completely. It was like he hadn’t known her at all. The Maker must have a sense of humor. There had been plenty of women that rotated through Cullen’s life, but the two who’d affected him so deeply, so profoundly, were both forbidden.

First, the infatuation he’d had with a mage under his watch. He deserved the punishment for that transgression and he’d paid his penance ever since. A decade had passed and he’d finally allowed himself the chance to believe that it was behind him... but it wasn’t, was it? He would be paying for that for the rest of his life. What happened with Ariana more than showed him that.

With a sigh, Cullen rolled up his sleeves, the skin reddened from scratching. Maybe he could convince one of the mages to part with their ration of lyrium. They’d been instructed not to give him any, but he was their commander, surely one of them—

_No lyrium_, he interrupted himself. He needed something to distract him, something to take his mind off the thoughts that plagued him. He’d go see Doctor Adan and get a strong sleeping draught before the festivities tonight. Maker knows he’d need to be knocked out to survive the endless day.

It was better than the alternative. Alternatives. Better than lyrium. Better than thinking about her with him. Better than finding comfort in the body of another woman. Better than the demons that were sure to pick up on the instability in his life and to plague him with nightmares. It was better this way.

But first… He pulled a small package out of his pocket, turning it over in his hands as he thought about what to do with it.

He’d collected the ribbons during his week in Halamshiral. The security preparation and planning hadn’t consumed all his time, so he’d taken whatever small snatches he could to wander around the surrounding city. He’d found the haberdasher tucked away in a corner of the market district, the tiny store filled to the brim with sewing materials. The shopkeeper, a spry elderly woman, picked out a combination of ribbons to honor the transition of spring to summer. Unlike the ribbons he’d begged from Leliana all those months ago, these worked harmoniously together and would be perfect for her.

He supposed he could give them to Leliana, but he’d already replenished her stash tenfold in thanks for the ones she’d parted with at Wintersend. Besides, he wanted Ariana to have them. It wouldn’t be right to gift them to someone else, no matter what had transpired between them.

He glanced across the room at where he’d last seen Karner, hunched over a desk as she clicked through reports. The news from the Western Approach had been more and more disturbing as the days passed. Especially with the arrival of the Grey Warden. The man’s reports of what was happening with his associates would be concerning under the best of circumstances, but given the state of the world at present, their actions were downright alarming.

Karner had been in here since he texted her this morning to double check the intelligence they’d received. There had to be something they were missing giving what the Warden was telling them. That was hours ago now. A shift change was overdue.

She didn’t look up as he stood and stretched. She didn’t even look up as he approached the desk. “Karner.”

She jumped as he spoke. “Maker, you scared the shit outta me!”

“You’ve been at this for hours. Time for a break.”

“But Commander, I’m on to something, I only need—”

“Break _now_. I’ll have a look at it.”

She glanced down at the hand scrawled notes and sighed. “Okay, but I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“While you’re out…” Cullen hesitated. “Could you do me a favor?” 

He pulled the small package out of his pocket and held it in his hands. She lifted her eyebrows as she looked at the package. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Could you make sure Bann Trevelyan receives this?”

Karner looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s something she requested several months ago, but only now arrived.”

“So she’s expecting it?”

“Not exactly.”

Karner didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. He could hear her internal thought of “Oh, Cullen” as clearly as though she’d spoken it aloud. 

He continued, “I considered what you said and agree it’s best to maintain my distance. So, I’m asking, as a favor, if you could ensure she receives it?”

“Sure,” she sighed. Cullen handed over the package. 

“It’s so light!” She exclaimed, holding it up to inspect it. “Whatever did you get her?”

“Karner,” he warned. 

Her eyes snapped to his. “So it is a gift.”

“Would you get it to her?”

She nodded before she stood and left the room. Cullen settled into the seat she’d vacated to review her findings.

***

The knock on the door roused her from her thoughts. Her stiff muscles complained as she unfolded herself from the chair and made her way to the door. 

When she pulled the door open, a scout wordlessly held out a folded piece of paper and quickly disappeared back toward the main hall. Ariana looked around her at the decorations that had been put up in anticipation of Summerday. The bonfires would be lit at sunset and the festival would begin the following morning.

Her sister would be hosting a Summerday breakfast in her quarters before they’d go out into the surrounding forest and gather greenery. Summerday had been another favorite holiday of the two Trevelyan girls in their youth. It had been another one of the holidays that had fallen by the wayside after Evelyn was taken.

Ariana flipped open the note, surprised to see Alistair’s scrawled handwriting asking her to meet him at the main gate. 

Was that only this morning that he’d shown up at Skyhold and thrown her life into further disarray? Yes, judging by the location of the sun in the sky. It would be setting in a few hours and the Summerday fires would be lit. Ariana had been so consumed in her own thoughts, the day had almost entirely slipped by her.

She donned the floral green wrap dress she’d saved for this holiday, the large white flowers and deep emerald green reminding her of the transition of the seasons. Ariana added leather sandals, wrapping the ties around her ankles several times before tying them. Her long, black hair she left down and unstyled, the humidity of early summer giving her wavy hair a slightly wild look. Perfect for Summerday eve.

Alistair stood near the main gate of Skyhold, leaning against the stone wall. Nervous energy rolled off him as he tried to pretend he wasn’t impatiently waiting. He relaxed when he spotted her, making his way to meet her in the middle of the courtyard.

“I’m glad you came.” He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her toward him, placing a kiss on her cheek. Ariana blushed as several passersby stopped to gawk at them... or maybe it was at him. He was a Grey Warden after all, both revered and feared. 

She pulled back to study him, noting the way the past five years had shaped and changed him. His face was more angular than she remembered and the scar under his eye hadn’t been there before. He smiled as he watched her study him, the edges of his warm brown eyes wrinkling in happiness. He looked more world-weary, but less sorrowful than he had been all those years ago.

“What did you have in mind for tonight?” she asked.

“I hoped you’d join me at the fire lighting.” He gestured toward the stone bridge, toward the forward camp at the bottom of the valley. The majority of that night’s festivities were to take place there, outside the fortress walls.

It wasn’t how she’d envisioned spending time with him again, but then, they had never been so public with their relationship. No one had known that he was in the Free Marches, no one _could_ know, for his safety and hers. 

Not that this was a relationship. She’d recently ended whatever it was that she’d been doing with Cullen—her heart painfully clenched at the thought of him—and now this ex-lover was thrown into the mix. She’d already given years of her life to this man, although it felt so long ago now.

“Bann Trevelyan? I’ve something for you.” A scout stood next to her, holding out a small package wrapped in brown paper. 

A gift? Ariana’s eyes flickered towards Alistair, but he was frowning at it. She reached out, taking hold of it. It was light, as though it were empty. 

“Thank you, Scout.” The man smiled and nodded before disappearing into the crowd.

“I probably should have asked sooner, but are you seeing someone?” Alistair asked, still frowning.

“I’m not,” she told him as she carefully took apart the paper wrapping to reveal a selection of ribbons in varying shapes and sizes. They were beautiful. Some shimmered in the sunlight while others were sheer as though they weren’t even there. Her breath caught in her chest and she quickly flipped the packaging back over, checking for a word, a message, anything. It was blank.

Only one person had ever given her ribbons. On that Wintersend day.

“Ribbons? Who would send you ribbons?” Alistair was staring at the array in her hand.

Ariana scrambled to think of something. “Leliana? I, um, asked for them.”

His eyebrows shot up toward the sky. “You asked for _ribbons_ from Leliana?” He gave a faux shiver as he spoke. She’d forgotten he knew the woman. “Better make sure they’re not laced with poison.” 

Ariana rolled her eyes as she handed him the paper wrapping to hold while she twisted the ribbons together. “Could you tie these on my wrist?”

“Not my fault if this goes poorly,” he grumbled as he attempted to tie a bow. The result was not perfect, but the whites and greens of the ribbons perfectly complemented her dress. Like he had known. Her heart ached at the thoughtfulness of his gift. 

She didn’t deserve his kindness, not after what she had done. Not after what she was about to do. 

She glanced around the crowd, wondering if he was out there watching her at that moment. She caught no sign of his golden hair as Alistair intertwined his fingers with hers and pulled her toward the bridge, out toward the celebration that was soon to begin.

Down at the camp, someone handed her a small glass of Summerday gin, the small red berries of Prophet’s Laurel giving the drink it’s distinctive pink color. It was said the drink was restorative and healing. The good doctor told her once it was good for the heart. She hoped that meant more than physical. She hoped it would heal the pieces that no longer fit together quite right.

Alistair kept her hand wrapped in his as he spoke to some soldiers at the camp. Ariana took another sip of the drink, hoping it would work quickly to stop her from thinking anymore today. She was a hypocrite, standing here with their hands intertwined like it meant something, when she was still reeling from a broken heart.

She shut her eyes and shook her head, willing the pain to allow her a moment’s peace.

“Are you all right?” Alistair tugged on her hand and she opened her eyes.

“I… yes. I thought there was an insect.”

“Come, there will be less near the fire once it’s lit.” He lifted her hands to his lips, pressing more kisses on the backs of her hands. His brown eyes were warm and happy, and comfortable, and familiar...

He had not been subtle about his desire to rekindle what they’d once had. It had begun out of convenience and consolation more than anything else, no more than two broken people finding solace in each other, but it had continued for almost three years until he'd been forced out of the Free Marches. Templars were closing in on the mage underground and he’d been recalled to Ferelden by the Grey Wardens.

He’d asked her to go with him, but she’d refused. She’d claimed it was because she wanted to keep searching for her sister, but that hadn’t been the whole truth. Solona had been the love of Alistair’s life. The truth was that she could never measure up to the woman that Solona Amell had been and she was tired of competing with a ghost.

She’d not heard from Alistair after he walked out of her parlor that day. Nor had she tried to contact him. She’d worried about him, for a time, but as the Blight faded into the distance and tensions between mages and templars rose, she’d thought of him less and less. 

At least she had until he was standing in front of her and all the memories had hit her at once.

But what did it matter? The course of her life had been charted and there was nothing she could do to change that. She was fated to marry Jean-Luc and until then, all she could do was hope that she survived the fallout.

Maybe tonight she could forget. Maybe she could drink enough to not remember. It seemed impossible. Drinking enough to forget tonight was one thing, but it would be impossible to drink enough to forget the man who'd left a gaping hole in her heart.

She fought the tears that welled as she caught sight of the white and green ribbons tied around her wrist. The reminder of the man who’d loved her as she was. She’d never had to be anyone else. She’d never had to compete with a memory. He had taken everything she was willing to give and loved her anyway. He’d given her everything she’d ever wanted. 

And it was gone. She had to accept that.

She snagged another glass of gin as Alistair led her toward the main bonfire. The ceremony began as the sun threatened to slip below the horizon. An Orlesian mother, one that Ariana had never seen before, was speaking as several cloaked men approached with torches. In unison with each other, they lowered the torches to the waiting pyre.

It took several minutes for the fire to spread, but a cheer went up as it did. Looking up at Skyhold in front of her, she watched the pyres light along the ramparts as darkness covered the valley.

Alistair pulled her into his arms to dance, his arms tightly wrapping around her waist to bring her closer. When he brushed the hair away from her face and pressed his lips to hers, she kissed him back. Maybe it was the alcohol working through her body or the magic of the evening, or maybe, just maybe, it was that she no longer had anything left to lose. So before she could second guess herself, before she could regret her decision, she pulled Alistair away from the fire, away from the celebration, and into the dark forest where she lay with him under the stars.


	32. Chapter 32

Resuming their affair had been easy. Far easier than she’d imagined it should have been. From that first night of Summerday eve, Alistair spent every night in her room and in her bed. 

During the day, with her sister in residence at Skyhold, there were endless meetings and diplomatic events. Especially now that Orlais was one of the Inquisition’s most staunch allies. Various representatives of countries around Thedas came to seek an audience with the Inquisitor. Ariana often found herself in many of the meetings, shuttled from one to the next by Josephine’s assistants. 

Ariana had allowed herself to be caught up in it, in all of it, because then she didn’t have to think about what it was that she was doing. Although at night, with Alistair sound asleep beside her, the thoughts would creep in. The questioning of what it was that she had done.

This night was no exception as Ariana quietly slipped out of bed. Alistair had spread out across her bed, snoring, but sleep eluded her. Again. 

If she were being honest with herself, which she often only allowed here in the solitude of the night, she hadn’t slept well since Halamshiral. Not since the last time Cullen had wrapped his arms around her. 

_Safe and solid. Protecting and proud_. Cole’s words echoed in her head as she started up the shower. She sat down on the tile floor and curled into a ball, allowing the hot water to stream down her back. Resting her face on her knees, her thoughts drifted to him.

She hadn’t known he and Alistair knew each other, although she could have figured it out if she’d tried hard enough. They’d both told her enough stories from their Templar days that she could have put the pieces together. She hadn’t ever imagined those two parts of her life would intersect so spectacularly as they had in the preceding week.

Taking another lover so soon after ending their affair would hurt under the best of circumstances. Pain ricocheted through Ariana at the thought of Cullen with another woman. It had always hurt thinking of that possibility, but now her heart ached at the reality that he would, in time, move on. He would find someone else who would stand by his side at parties. Who would welcome him home at the end of the day. Who would worry about him as he went to war and rejoice each time he returned home safe. Who would warm his bed at night and wake up next to him each morning. Who would meet his family, take his name, and bear his children.

Nausea swept over her as she thought of the entire life that Cullen would live without her. She muffled a sob with her hand as the tears began to fall. The tears she swore she wouldn’t cry.

She had been through worse, through so much worse than leaving him. How could this feel more catastrophic than what she’d already been through? Void, she’d done it for him. To protect him. So that he _could_ have that life someday. Even if it was a life without her.

The shower water cooled and Ariana turned it off, toweling off before she slipped back into her room and back into Alistair’s arms. She laid her head over his heart and listened to the steady beat with each deep breath that he took.

Morning steadily brightened the room as sleep continued to elude her. Alistair shifted beside her, rolling onto his side, his arms wrapping around her back and he let out a loud snore. Ariana smiled into his chest. For all his faults, he was a good man. One that she could have seen herself with in another life.

Alistair’s arms clutched at her back and a whimper escaped his lips in the split second before he began thrashing. Ariana wrapped her arms more tightly around him, throwing a leg over his hip to hold him steady as he fought the demons in his sleep. 

Something was different about these tremors, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it didn’t feel like any nightmares she’d seen from him before. Or any she’d seen from Cullen.

His eyes snapped open and he sucked in a loud breath before scrambling to escape the hold she had on him.

“Alistair!” She exclaimed as he pushed her away, flailing his hands around the bed, looking for something.

“Sol… Ariana?” He blinked a few times as his brown eyes adjusted to the early morning grey, focusing on her face. He looked around slightly bewildered as he took in the surroundings. “I… Skyhold. Right. Here we are.”

“What in Andraste’s name was that about?” 

“That? Oh, hmm? Nothing, I think. Just woke up.” He slid to the edge of the bed and swung a leg to the floor, stilling at her hand on his shoulder.

“Alistair, that wasn’t ‘nothing.’ I’ve never seen that before.”

He scoffed, “I’d imagine not, unless you’ve made a habit of spending the night with Grey Wardens.”

“Not Grey Wardens, no.”

He turned toward her and lifted an eyebrow, incredulity on his face. “So you _do_ make a habit of spending the night with other men?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“My lady, you wound me!” He pretended to hold up a dagger and mimed piercing his heart with the weapon as he fell over on the bed. 

She shook her head at his antics, but couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to relieve the mounting tension in the room. He wasn’t getting off that easy though. She lay next to him, running a hand through his tousled coppery locks. “That wasn’t a nightmare, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Tell me about it?”

He sighed, briefly closing his eyes before holding her gaze, “Have you ever wondered how Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn? How we can kill archdemons? What happened to Solona when she sacrificed herself for Ferelden?” 

She shook her head, trying to figure out where he was taking the conversation. 

“Our blood is tainted with the blight. No, don’t ask how, I won’t tell you, but it is. Then at the end of a Warden’s life, when the blight becomes too strong, we hear a song. ‘The Calling.’ That’s when you know it’s time.”

“Time for what?” She asked in a whisper.

“To go into the deep roads and take as many of the bastards down with you as possible.”

She pushed off the bed, “Don’t tell me… and you’re hearing it? But how is that possible? You haven’t even been a Warden that long!”

“We’re all hearing it.” His voice was quiet. “That’s why I’m here.”

Ariana didn’t know how to respond to that. Alistair beckoned her back toward him and wrapped his arms around her. “I think Corypheus caused it.”

“Of course he did,” Ariana muttered under her breath. “So you mean to tell me that you being here has nothing to do with the fact that I’m in Ferelden?”

He gave her a small smile. “You’re not in Ferelden, this is Orlais.”

“Close enough.”

“Had I known, my darling Ariana, I would have rushed to your side as soon as humanly possible.” He pulled her down toward him to kiss her. “But as it is, you don’t call, you don’t write, you don’t even leave dead drops… What’s a man to do?”

Ariana wrapped her arms around his waist as she laid her chin on his chest. She lifted an eyebrow.

He laughed. “What can I say? Your wish is my command.” 

***

As the days passed, filled with meetings and other military preparations as they considered each new piece of intelligence coming in from the Western Approach, he couldn’t help but continue to wonder where he’d gone wrong.

The nights were the loneliest part. He couldn’t go upstairs, not to the memories that consumed him when he climbed the ladder into his sleeping quarters. The nights wrapped around, wrapped in, wrapped up in Ariana. Her scent still lingered on his blankets, scents of honey and plums consuming him as demons haunted his dreams. 

Desire demons were always the worst, offering him the quiet life he’d always dreamed of with her by his side and with their growing family. He’d always known it was a fool’s dream as she’d made clear from the beginning it would never happen. Despite her warning, for the first time in his life, he’d dared hope for something more. 

Like the fool that he was. 

It had been—how long? Six weeks? Two months?—since the last time she’d been his. And as with all good things, it had come crashing down around them. Well, him. Since it was obvious the Maker was punishing him for something. Still... Cullen knelt in the chapel. In that familiar place of comfort. As he folded his hands together, intertwining his fingers, folding one thumb over the other as he prayed. 

Cullen wished he’d realized that Theirin was Hawke’s Warden friend. It had taken him the better part of a decade to move past the events of the Blight, at least those that took place within the walls of Kinloch Hold. Now he was back to being a work in progress.

His time with the Inquisition, back in the south, had been some of the happiest of his life. He’d redefined his purpose and found a woman he thought he could share that with… and now Theirin threatened to destroy that all over again. Although it wasn’t Theirin’s fault. The man had no idea that Cullen had been fiercely in love with Ariana Trevelyan. 

_I will never love you_. The finality of her rejection still rung heavily in his heart. 

It was abundantly clear he had a type in the women he fell head over heels for. More than that, those women had a type of their own. He’d chalked Solona up as an infatuation, a fleeting crush of his youth and inexperience. She was vivacious and… alive. Despite the dreariness of the walls that surrounded them in the Tower, she had a way of making the world feel vibrant. Wherever she was, the world was brighter and more vibrant.

But she’d barely noticed him until that fated day when she returned to Kinloch Hold as a Grey Warden.

_The whore of Kinloch Hold_, he’d called her. Memories of her trysts fresh in his mind and the temptations of the demons finally having worn him down, reminding him of what he could never have. He thought Theirin was going to kill him in that moment, hands tight on the grips of his gun, eyes blazing. 

Solona had laid her hand on his arm, calming him instantly. “He’s a broken man, Alistair, he doesn’t mean it. Let it go.” 

It had been the greatest act of kindness she could have given him in that moment.

It was only later that Cullen found out they were lovers. The kind of love he’d thought only existed in story books. Two young Wardens, tasked with saving the world, falling madly, passionately, and deeply in love. Yet their love story ended in tragedy as Solona sacrificed herself for Ferelden and left Theirin to clean up the pieces of a broken world and a broken heart.

Rehabilitated from his dark time during the Blight, Cullen’s years in Kirkwall had passed without any risk to his heart. He’d had lovers, but he was older, wiser, and blissfully unaware of the woman who would eventually make off with his heart. He was surprised he’d never crossed paths with her in Kirkwall. It seemed as though she had flitted around the edges of his life there, being intimately connected with those he associated with, both before and after the explosion.

The day that Ariana Trevelyan had walked into his life was the day that he knew he had to have her. Which he did for those beautiful, blissful, fleeting months.

When Cullen got back to his office, he found himself opening the desk drawer that held the lyrium kit he’d carried for more than a decade. He’d been clean for almost a year now, but he still ran his fingers over the fractures, the splintered wood painstakingly put back together to serve as a reminder of how far he had come… and how much he still had to lose.

Without thinking, he flipped open the lid and stared down into it, fingertips caressing the philter of blue liquid, shimmering in the dim lighting of his office. He closed his eyes as he touched it, fighting the familiar urge to pick it up.

“Heart asunder.” His eyes flew open to see the boy standing in front of his desk. “Torn about you, not between you.” Cole’s eyes were wide, insistent and pleading. 

“Cole, stop.”

“Anything to protect the secret of my heart.” 

“Get out of my head.”

Cole’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But I’m not in your head.”

“Then what...” Cullen started, but the boy had disappeared. 

Cullen turned over the boy’s words in his mind. _Heart asunder. Torn about you, not between you. Anything to protect the secret of my heart._ It had to be about Ariana. He’d used the words secret before when it came to her. What was it that he’d said that once? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t want to. What he wanted was to forget.

He didn’t want to live like this, didn’t want to feel anymore. He flipped open the lid of his lyrium kit and picked up the phial of lyrium, studying the swirling blue liquid in the lamp light. He could hear it singing to him. The music was familiar, an old comfort. He wanted that oblivion. To be in it. To forget.

But no. He dropped the phial back into the box and went to put it in his desk drawer. A photo caught his eye. It was one that Leliana had given him, from their journey back from Redcliffe. He started to reach for it, but something stopped him. There was no reason to revisit those memories now. No good would come of that. Instead, he pushed the drawer closed and leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling above him, missing the stars, as he fell into a dreamless sleep.

It felt like mere minutes had passed with he woke with a start as a door swung open, the wood crashing against the stone wall behind it. Cassandra paced in front of his desk, but Cullen couldn’t tell if she was angry or if something else was going on. 

“She said it was an emergency,” Hawke drawled from the doorway. His neck was stiff from sleeping in his desk chair and he had to turn his entire body to see her leaning against the doorway. 

The sun was reflecting off her blonde hair, giving her a sort of halo in the morning light, as though she were some sort of prophet. Despite everything, he thought of Hawke a holy icon made him snort in laughter.

“What?” She asked, unfolding herself and walking toward him.

“It’s always an emergency,” he replied, his voice gruff.

“The situation in the Western Approach is worse than we thought!” Cassandra lamented.

“That’s what you said last week.”

“But this time it _is_, Commander.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“She’s as serious as a… hmm, something dead probably.” Hawke was inspecting her nails as the others turned to gawk at her. “What? I forgot what I wanted to compare it to.”

Cassandra stared at the woman like she had two heads. Normally, Cullen would have laughed along with Hawke, but he did not feel like laughing this morning. He had not felt like laughing for months.

Hawke gave him an impish smile and winked at him, but he evenly held her gaze. “Come on, Culls. You haven’t smiled since I got back. Problems with the lady friend?”

“Hawke, don’t,” he warned.

“Commander,” Cassandra interrupted, casting a confused glance at Hawke. “There is a war council. About the updates. Regardless of what our friend Hawke believes, it _is_ urgent.”

“Maker’s breath, give me ten minutes.”

***

When she woke that morning, that day was the same as any other. Alistair was already up and in the shower when she’d woken. “Emergency war council” was all he’d told her as he hurried out the door, pulling on the last of his clothing.

Ariana took the opportunity to tend to her garden, neglected as it had been in the weeks since Summerday. Although one couldn’t tell by looking at it as it had obviously been cared for in her absence. She’d have to remember to thank Cole next time she saw the young man.

She harvested as many of the herbs as she could carry and brought them to Doctor Adan’s office. A short note on the door stated he’d be back after noon, so Ariana entered and began putting away the herbs. She’d leave him a note to let him know so he could take full advantage of their freshness. 

As she was writing, she heard the door open. “Doctor, I was leaving you a...” The words died on her lips as she looked up into Cullen’s golden eyes. He stood frozen in the doorway, his hand still on the knob.

Ariana sucked in a breath and held it as they stared at one another. The circles under his eyes were darker than she remembered them being. She knew from conversations with her sister and Hawke that he hadn’t been sleeping, but she’d never imagined he could be in this awful of shape. He looked miserable. 

He broke eye contact, looking away from her. It was only a second, but as he stepped out of the room and the door began to close, Ariana spoke, “Cullen.” The way his name left her lips sounded desperate. She cringed at the sound, but his eyes darted back to her. “Can I help you… find something? I’m sure Adan would—”

He shook his head as he again turned away.

“Please,” she begged, “I want to help.”

He paused, but did not face her. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and heavy, “Haven’t you done enough?”

Ariana was too taken aback to respond as he pulled the door shut behind him. Tears stung in her eyes as she finished the message, adding a note for Adan to check on the commander.

She’d barely made it back to the privacy of her room when the tears forced their way out and streamed down her face. Of course he wanted nothing to do with her. She’d ended things with him. She’d broken his heart, not the other way around. She’d had to, for him. To protect him.

She pulled out her phone and pulled up the photo she'd snapped that Drakonis day, the photo of them visiting the refugees. It was the only photo she had of him. That she would ever have.

“Maker! That woman is a menace,” Alistair declared as he burst through the door to her room. Ariana jumped at the sound of his voice, locking her phone before running her hands over her face to wipe away the tears. Alistair kicked off his shoes and was unbuttoning his shirt when he looked over at her.

“I’d hoped she would stay gone after...” Alistair paused in removing his clothing to take a closer look, his face shifting into a look of concern. He rushed over, gathering her into his arms in a comforting embrace. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

Ariana pressed her lips together, fighting back the tears. Everything about the current situation was wrong. One lover holding her as she shed tears over another. Over the one she wanted to be holding her.

Alistair stroked her hair. When she didn’t respond, he continued, “I know it’s short notice.”

“What—” She choked a little from the tears as she tried to speak, “What do you mean ‘short notice’?”

He leaned back a little, wiping her cheeks with his thumb. “That I’m leaving for the Western Approach.”

“You are?”

“Within the week.” His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t know? So that’s not why you’re upset?” She turned her face away from him. He laid a hand on her waist. “Ariana, what’s going on?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head as she pressed her lips together. “You’re leaving and I’ll have to deal with it alone.”

“Come with me.” Alistair cradled her face in his hands. “We can figure this out.” 

She closed her eyes, trying to get the chaos within her under control. “Alistair… You know I can’t.”

“What? But I thought—” 

“Thought what? That we’d simply pick up where we left off five years ago?”

“I had hoped, perhaps in vain…” He trailed off.

“Hoped for _what_?”

“For you.” He sighed and dropped his arms from her waist. He ran his hands through his copper hair as he turned away from her and walked over toward the dresser. He began pulling out the few possessions he’d put there, shoving them into his pack.

She followed him across the room and dropped down on her knees next to him. “Alistair, look at me.” 

He shook his head, keeping his focus on what he was doing. Ariana kneeled next to him, mind racing with what she was going to tell him. After several long moments, he sat back on his heels and looked at her, his cognac brown eyes shimmering with unspoken pain.

“You’re a Grey Warden and I’m a noble. We both know our duty.”

“Duty.” He hung his head and closed his eyes. “How that word haunts me.”

“Even if you weren’t… I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I have no choice.”

“There is always a choice, Ariana.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Not in this.”

He lifted a hand to caress her cheek. She placed her hand over his as the two of them stared into each other’s eyes in the silence that followed. “Did you ever love me?”

“With as many pieces of my heart as I could.”

***

The waning of their relationship played out over Alistair’s last days at Skyhold. The honesty of that conversation casting a gloom over what had once been easy. Each time they lay together was more urgent than the last as Alistair treated each time as though he would never see her again. He watched her as though he were memorizing the lines of her body, trying to capture the way that she looked in those moments.

When the day of his departure arrived, they lay together on the bed, his arms wrapped around her, his face buried in the back of her neck, breathing in the scent of her as the room slowly lightened with the rising sun. 

This was their permanent goodbye. 

There was nothing left for them. No more chances. Nothing more to their story. It was what had to happen, but it didn’t stop the pain that accompanied the end. She had cared for him once, but now all she could muster was whatever was contained in the splinters of her heart that had escaped the utter wreckage of Cullen Rutherford.

He deserved better than that. He shouldn’t hold out hope for a woman who couldn’t love him.

When they finally had to move, it was more routine than thought. Clothes, shoes, door. She couldn’t watch as he packed the entirety of his life into his pack and walked out of her room for the last time.

It would never have worked. There was no way in any world that the Maker could give them that it would have worked, but knowing that didn’t make it any easier. Their history hung heavily between them as they silently walked to the front gate.

Even so, her eyes shone with unshed tears by the time they arrived at the gate. Her sister wrapped her arms around her without a word, the two of them standing that way for some time before Evelyn joined her travel companions at the beginning of the bridge that would take them west to Orlais. West to the desert. West to forever.

Alistair pushed the hair away from her eyes, his thumbs gently rubbing away the tears that began to trickle down her cheeks. His hands framed her face as he stared into her eyes with a tender expression. “I’ve never been very good at this.”

“Nor have I.”

“Ariana... I wish I could have been that man for you.”

“Alistair,” she breathed as she buried her head in his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her waist as the tears continued to flow. He lifted her chin and kissed her, his lips pressing gently on hers, the taste of salt intertwined in their goodbye. “_Go dté tú slán_,” she told him.

“Farewell, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Go dté tú slán_ \- (Gaeilge) May you go safely


	33. Chapter 33

Cullen made the trek from the lower camp back up to Skyhold. The daily hike down and back up the mountain had been good to both keep him away from the fortress and his office, as well as give him an opportunity to clear his head each day.

Beyond the pain of her leaving him and the pain of her rushing into Theirin’s arms, he’d had to endure the ongoing pain of near daily updates on their relationship for almost a month. Each war council meeting began with the latest gossip about the two of them. It truly astonished him how little could be hidden from the ambassador and the spymaster. The women often subjected Theirin to light-hearted teasing about the relationship on the rare occasions that he joined them at the war council.

On one such occasion, Cullen had been walking down the hall toward the war room, the door left slightly ajar, and Evelyn’s voice carried across the stone. “Warden, I would know your intentions with my sister.” 

He slowed his pace, curious to hear the man’s response, but not interested in being there when he said it. 

“I would marry her if she would have me.” Cullen felt as though he’d been punched in the gut. Of course he would marry her. What man wouldn’t? But Theirin wasn’t a noble, he was a Grey Warden.

Cassandra let out a dreamy sigh. “That is so—”

“I said _if_. She already rejected me once, but I am… hopeful she will not do so again.”

“She rejected you? Why?” Josephine gasped.

Cullen didn’t hear his response as Leliana came up behind him in the hallway. She quizzically arched an eyebrow at him as she strode toward the open door. Cullen sighed and followed.

“Maybe she’s intimidated by your past.” 

Leliana and Cullen walked around the war table to their standard positions on the other side. Cullen stared at the map, willing the conversation to end. He had precious few hours in the day when he could escape thoughts of Ariana and the conversation was cutting into it.

“Me? Intimidating? Pshh.”

“I’m inclined to agree, Alistair,” Leliana teased. “Although you’ve come a long way in the past decade.”

“Could we _not_ do this right now?”

“I told you then that your awkwardness is endearing. Maker only knows how else you’ve managed to do the amount of wooing you have.”

“Wooing?” Cassandra asked as Leliana and Josephine giggled.

“I’m not intimidating!”

Cullen paused at the guardhouse at the end of the bridge, as he did each day, to convince himself to walk across it and continue on as though nothing were wrong. 

He’d been considering moving out to the forward camp, but he knew the Inquisitor and the other advisors would never allow it. Neither would he, as it would put him too far out of reach in case of an attack.

Like Haven.

With a sigh, he began to trudge across the bridge. If he didn’t walk too fast, he would have five more minutes before he had to go back to pretending that everything was fine, but everything was not fine. The headaches were back, he wasn’t sleeping… He would survive, he knew he would, but right now it was difficult to see how.

He’d watched the Trevelyan's departure for the Western Approach the previous week. It wasn’t something that he would normally do, but he knew that Hawke and Theirin would be accompanying her. The truth was he needed to see what happened. There had been a shift in that last week before they left, since he’d seen her that day in Adan’s office. 

Although the man still resided in her room, Theirin’s temperament had darkened into despondency, as though there were nothing left for which to hope.

He’d taken no comfort in watching the agony of their goodbye. The memory of the misery etched across her face, wet with tears as she tried to remain brave, continued to haunt him.

If Cullen wasn’t the one who could make her happy, he wanted her to be. Somehow. As much as it pained him to know that it would be a happiness without him, he wanted that for her.

He stepped through the main gate and turned left to head up toward the main keep for the daily meeting. Even though the Inquisitor was not at Skyhold, reports continued to pour in from their various camps throughout Thedas. Requests for military support, requests for aid, requests for decisions… 

“There’s always something,” he grumbled to himself as he made his way up the stairs and to the war room.

“The Inquisitor is still en route to the Western Approach and I’ve received no new updates,” Leliana told him and Josephine as she entered the room. “Is there a reason we need to convene the war council, Josie?” 

“Yes. Since the Inquisitor cleared out the Red Templars from the Emprise du Lion, the rebuilding has been slower than anticipated. Bann Trevelyan offered to oversee the Inquisition’s efforts there and to help garner additional resources to support the village.” Josephine laid one of her golden markers on top of the town of Sahrnia before passing her tablet to Leliana. 

“Bann Trevelyan? Our soldiers are better equipped to support the people of Sahrnia.” Cullen flipped through the stack of papers on the table. “Send Rylen. Or the Chargers. Weren’t they looking for something to do?”

Leliana held out the tablet toward him, but Cullen ignored it. “The troops at Suledin Keep requested additional aid for the people beyond what they have been able to provide.”

“And Bann Trevelyan is held in high regard in Orlais. Having her name attached to the effort may engender the Orlesians to look out for their own.” Josephine took the tablet back from Leliana as Cullen continued to ignore it.

“It’s not safe. Rylen has experience from Kirkwall, send him instead.”

“She was requested by name, if you would bother looking at this,” Josephine waved the tablet at him. “We gain nothing by ignoring a direct request when it costs us so little to do so.”

Leliana thoughtfully studied him. “The Inquisitor is not here to decide, but why not send both? Having the knight-captain there will ensure her safety, in case…”

“In case what?” he snapped, but Leliana did not elaborate.

“Then it is decided!” Josephine tapped away on her tablet. “They’ll depart on Drakonday.”

“Is that all?”

“I’ve nothing further. Good day, Commander.”

***

She flopped down on the bench in front of the tavern, taking a long drink from her bottle of water as she caught her breath. Rylen jogged over and sat down next to her. She sat in the shade, trying to escape from the heat of the early summer sun.

“Good work today,” Rylen told her as he mopped his forehead with his shirt. “Need to get you back to strength training though. You’ve lost it since winter.”

“Why? I’m not training to be a soldier.” 

“It’ll help.”

She gave him a look. “Rylen, as impressive as your muscles are, I don’t want them on me.”

“Could at least get you some definition,” he shrugged.

She rolled her eyes at him. He pulled on his t-shirt and ran a hand through his dark brown hair. The stark lines of the black tattoos that ran up his forearms rippled. He’d just covered the large chest and back tattoos, but Ariana could make out a hint of them at the neckline of his shirt.

“Did you get your tattoos before you joined the Templars?” she asked.

“Aye, some of them.”

“But not all?”

Rylen turned toward her. “No, not all. Why?”

“What do they mean?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “My mate growing up wanted to be a tattoo artist and I liked his art. He got practice, I got ink.”

“You let an amateur practice by tattooing your face?”

Rylen let out a bark of laughter. “No, got these last year. Templars never would have allowed it.”

She laughed along with him. “So they don’t mean anything?”

“Not to me. My mate says the designs represent ancient dwarven legends though.”

Ariana gestured to the ink on his arms. “Do you know any more about those?” 

“Afraid I don’t.”

Ariana studied the simple design. Straight lines came out from a band around his upper forearm, running up under the sleeves of his t-shirt, similar to the tattoo on his chin. “They’re remarkable. I’ve never seen anything like them,” she told him.

He smiled at her. “That’s half the fun.”

“And the other half?”

“They make me look good.”

Ariana laughed again, “That they do.”

“Knight-Captain!” At the words, Ariana snapped her eyes up to find Cullen angrily storming toward them. Her heart dropped into her stomach at seeing him this close. He’d been avoiding her for weeks and she him. 

Rylen leapt to his feet next to her. “Commander!”

“If you have time to chat, then perhaps I need to assign you more work.” 

Oh no, he didn’t. Ariana wasn’t going to let Rylen be collateral damage from their fall out. Ariana stood up and glared at Cullen. “We only just finished my training. I had questions.”

Cullen spared her a glance before refocusing his attention on Rylen. “You are due in the command center in fifteen minutes. Get dressed and report there now.”

Rylen nodded and started toward the main keep.

“Rylen!” Ariana took several steps toward him. “That was a good idea, let me know once you have a plan.” 

Cullen narrowed his eyes at her. “What plan?”

“Strength training,” Rylen said. “Bann Trevelyan slacked off.”

“Yes, she did appear to be quite occupied.” Cullen looked as though he were fighting the urge to snarl. For her own part, Ariana was fighting the urge to smack him.

“I’ll go with you,” she said to Rylen, grabbing her water bottle off the bench.

“No.” Cullen finally let the snarl loose.

She stared at him. “Why not?”

“Stop distracting him.”

“I’m not! You wanted me to do this training, he’s only—”

Rylen cleared his throat and they both turned to face him. His eyes darted between the two of them. “I'll be in the command center.”

As he turned, Ariana stepped forward, but Cullen grabbed her arm. Ariana smacked it away. “What is your problem?”

His nostrils flared as he stepped toward her. Ariana stepped back, staring at him. “Stay away from my soldiers.”

“What? Now I can't even talk to them?”

“I don’t need you distracting him.”

“I wasn’t!”

“I don’t care what you were doing. Leave him... _them_ alone.” He shook his head and stalked away from her. 

Ariana stared after him, wondering about the anger. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been broken, not angry, but now… She watched as he climbed the stairs to the ramparts and she knew that she was right to leave Skyhold.

***

She had woken early the morning they were to depart for Sahrnia, despite the lack of sleep she’d sustained over the previous months. Almost all the nobles departed after Evelyn, going back to their summer homes and their families. Ariana felt as though she were slowly losing her mind cooped up in the fortress. Even her garden was now behind the walls that separated her from the outside world. 

Sahrnia had still not recovered from the damage, despite the disruption of the magic. Most of the land surrounding the village was still frozen solid and the recovery efforts had been slowed because of those challenges.

Servants had taken her bags down to the car as Rylen was preparing to depart. Josephine insisted she take a full wardrobe with her, “You never know what or who will arrive!” Ariana appreciated the ambassador’s endless optimism.

Rylen had the vehicle parked in the courtyard, engine already running, as he loaded the roof with additional cargo they’d be transporting to Suledin Keep for the troops. He waved as she approached and shouted that it’d be another ten minutes and they’d be on their way.

Ariana leaned against the half wall and watched him work. She was thankful he’d be the one traveling with her to the Emprise. It was good to have a friend.

“Rylen!” Cullen’s strong voice rung across the courtyard. Her heart beat faster at the initial thought of him, but when she turned to face him, her heart slammed in her chest as she took in his disheveled appearance, golden curls tousled and undone… and he was half-dressed.

She knew exactly what that meant.

It had been shortsighted of her to not expect he would be with someone else. She knew it would happen eventually, of course, but she hadn’t been prepared to see him like this. To know it was real. She’d seen how women threw themselves at him, but he’d always seemed too caught up in his work—and in her—to notice.

Even worse, Ariana recognized the blonde soldier on his heels from Redcliffe... and Haven. She tried to remember the woman’s name. Kraddick? Krenick? Karner. It was definitely Karner.

The woman laid her hand on his forearm, stopping Cullen at the bottom of the stairs. She whispered something in his ear and the two of them turned toward Ariana. The intimacy of those two actions had Ariana’s heart clenching in pain. She wanted to turn away, wanted to run… but she couldn’t. Not when they were both staring at her.

Karner was Fereldan, Ariana remembered that much, and probably the kind of woman Cullen would one day marry. Once her time in the service was up, she’d be happy to settle on a farm somewhere and give him a gaggle of baby Rutherfords. Their kids would be beautiful. Any child of Cullen Rutherford’s would be.

She couldn’t look him in the face as jealousy mixed with the pain, surging at the thought of the beautiful blond-haired children these two would create. Of how they’d create them. 

She closed her eyes. She knew the feelings were irrational. She knew it. She’d left him. He could be with whomever he pleased. The thought didn’t stop the pain and it didn’t stop the jealousy and it didn’t stop the rising nausea.

“Bann Trevelyan.” 

She swallowed as he directly addressed her, her heart hammering in her ears. The past few times they’d been this close to each other hadn’t gone well. She felt like she was going to be sick, but she opened her eyes. “Commander.” 

They stared at each other for several beats of her heart. There was no anger today. He was back to looking as broken as she felt. Cullen turned toward Rylen, who’d jumped off the top of the vehicle and joined them. “There has been a change of plans, Knight-Captain. You’ll depart for the Western Approach at once.”

“What?” Ariana snapped the question seconds before Rylen asked, “Commander?”

Cullen’s eyes flickered back toward Ariana, but he directed his words at the knight-captain. “We received an update from the Inquisitor. Come, I’ll fill you in.”

Rylen gave Ariana a disappointed shrug before he said, “Let me turn off the vehicle and I’ll be right up.” 

Cullen nodded and began to turn away.

“What about me?” She rushed the words out, an edge to her voice as the frustration rose within her.

He began to climb the stairs, raising his voice to reach her even though he did not turn back. “You are none of my concern.” 

“Do not walk away from me,” Ariana said. Karner cast a glance back in her direction, but Cullen continued to climb the stairs without hesitation. 

“Commander!” she shouted after him, but he didn’t even hesitate. She stared after him as the frustration turned to fury. He was doing this to get back at her. It had to be personal, there was no other reason for him to do it right now, like this.

Ariana pulled out her phone and shot off a text before she took the stairs two at a time behind them. They’d reached the top, but had continued straight toward the ramparts and his office. Karner looked back at her in surprise as Ariana arrived at the top of the stairs and veered left, toward the keep. 

As she was halfway up the second set of stairs, her phone pinged. A quick glance at the notification was all she needed as she strode through the main hall and into Josephine’s office. She didn’t bother knocking. 

Josie was already at her desk and gave Ariana a warm smile. “Good morning, Ariana! When do you depart for Sahrnia?”

“Ten minutes ago until he cancelled my trip!”

Josephine tilted her head in confusion. “Who?”

“Your fucking commander! He’s sending Rylen to the Western Approach.”

“Well, I’m certain if he thought that necessary then—” 

“Maybe it is. I don’t know, he wouldn’t explain!” Ariana pressed her hands into the desk in front of Josephine. “I’m going anyway.”

“Alone?” Josephine tried to cover her surprise.

“Of course not. Several chevaliers from the Royal Guard will arrive tomorrow to accompany me.” Josephine’s eyes popped wider. “It might be good to remind the commander that I am here of my own free will. The Inquisition does not own me.”

“I agree, that might be a good reminder for him,” Josephine evenly replied as she began to tap on her tablet.

“And Josephine? You might also want to prepare to host a prince.”

***

Karner warned him Ariana was angry after their exchange. It hadn’t been punishment. He hadn’t even been trying to keep her at Skyhold. Rather, getting Rylen fully briefed and on the road to the Western Approach had been his sole focus.

Josephine arrived in his office in a panic, sending the others outside while she filled him in on the conversation she’d had with the bann. “Commander, she suggested I remind you that the Inquisition does not own her.” 

“Because she’s upset I delayed her trip? The Western Approach is an active war zone. I don’t have time to worry about her feelings.”

“May I also remind you that she is one of the most powerful banns of the Free Marches?” 

“How could I possibly forget?” he responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm. _Her bloody title_.

“Of course. You should be aware that she is considered of state import to Orlais.”

Cullen blinked a few times as he processed the words that had come out of Josephine’s mouth. “I must have heard you incorrectly. Unless you did say that Ariana Trevelyan is considered of _state_ import to the _country_ of Orlais?”

“I did,” Josephine confirmed with a nod. “Halamshiral submitted a formal request for her lineage some months ago, although nothing has come of it yet... and the request for her assistance in Sahrnia did come directly from Val Royeaux.”

“Maker’s breath, Josephine. You have to tell me these things.”

“I did not want to burden you further, you seemed to have enough on your shoulders already.”

He dropped his head into his hands. He’d known that his work had suffered, but this was the first he’d seen the impact of that. “Remind me who Halamshiral is?”

“Bechalet.”

Blessed Andraste. This was worse than he thought. “Is he still a grandmaster chevalier?”

“No. He’s now a field marshal and military advisor to the throne.” Josephine looked distressed as she added, “And a prince.”

Cullen blanched. “Say that again.”

“He’s Prince Bechalet now. The Council of Heralds agreed that a named heir would bring stability to the country.”

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands down his face. “Maker, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to fix this?”

The answer to which was exactly how he found himself waiting at the helicopter landing pad in his black formal clothes, a small contingent of soldiers behind him. As the next highest ranking officer currently at Skyhold, Karner stood beside him.

“The things you do for this woman,” she sighed, uncomfortably shifting in the hot summer sun.

“This is a request from the ambassador,” he grumbled back. “I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”

Across from him, Ariana’s eyes narrowed at their interaction. He’d spent the last ten minutes since she’d arrived trying to not stare at her, but had failed. Miserably. She was everything he wanted and she was right there… He closed his eyes, willing his heart to stop aching.

“She thinks we’re sleeping together,” Karner whispered, a light teasing in her sing-song voice. 

Cullen felt heat on his cheeks as he opened his eyes to glance at Karner. At least the flushing could be chalked up to standing in the sun in a black uniform. “It doesn’t matter what she thinks.”

Karner gave him a knowing look as the chopper appeared in the distance. The mesmerizing whoosh of the blades grew louder as it drew closer and landed. Bechalet jumped out as soon as it touched down.

Josephine stepped forward, raising her voice over the slowing blades. “Your Imperial Highness, welcome to Skyhold!” 

The ambassador and Ariana deeply curtsied as the soldiers bowed.

“Thank you for the welcome, Ambassador, but hardly necessary.” He stepped forward and swept Ariana into his arms with a kiss on each cheek. “Hello, little dove.”

“Hello, Jean-Luc,” she smiled. 

Cullen’s heart contracted at her smile. He’d dreamt about her smile for so long and now, here it was, being freely given to another man. He had to get over her. He _had_ to.

Bechalet tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “Lead the way.”

As they approached him, Cullen straightened and stared straight ahead, focusing in the distance, but when Ariana hesitated in front of him, his breath caught in his chest. “Jean-Luc, you remember Commander Cullen?”

The man held out his hand and Cullen gripped it in a firm shake. “Indeed. The man who took such good care of my little dove.” His tone was playful, but his eyes held a slight edge.

Karner muttered beside him, “She can take care of herself.”

Bechalet’s eyes shifted over to Karner, flickering down to the markings on the shoulder of her uniform. “Of course she can, Lieutenant, but the commander understands my meaning.” He focused his attention on Cullen again. “Perhaps we can have a drink later? We have much to discuss.” 

Out of the side of his eye, Cullen saw Ariana's nostrils flare and her jaw clench. She didn’t like that idea at all.

“Of course.”

“_Bien_.” He nodded. “Commander. Lieutenant.”

Cullen didn’t let out a breath until the man’s back disappeared through the door.

“Well, I daresay that went well,” Josephine said, pulling out a fan to cool herself. “Shall we?”

They walked along the ramparts and through his office, back toward the main keep. As soon as everyone had exited his office, Karner pushed the door shut and turned on him. “What was that about? ‘The commander understands my meaning’? I swear to the Maker, Cullen, if you—”

“It’s not what you think,” he grumbled as he unbuttoned his jacket, tossing it over the practice dummy he kept near the door.

“It doesn’t matter what I think. What matters is what he thinks.” Karner’s voice was rising. 

“He thought I was her bodyguard.” Cullen defended himself.

“That doesn’t make it better!”

“It was a jest, nothing more!”

“It was a threat.” Karner shook her head as she frowned at him, “She’s not worth it.”

“She is worth everything!” As soon as the words left his mouth, a horrified look appeared on Karner’s face. Damn it. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud, no matter how true it was.

Karner let out a slow breath before she said, voice much lower and calmer than it had been, “You, Cullen Rutherford, are a bloody fool.”

***

“Commander, thank you for meeting me.” Bechalet crossed the room toward the sideboard and lifted several of the bottles to check their contents. “_Apéro_?”

“Why not?” Cullen agreed as the man poured a pale brown liquid into two glasses. Probably brandy, since that seemed to be a favorite Orlesian pre-dinner drink. 

Bechalet handed one of the glasses to Cullen before lifting his glass in a toast, “To ours.”

“To ours.” _Definitely brandy_, Cullen noted as he took a sip.

The other man set his glass down on a table and took off his jacket, tossing it over one of the chairs in the sitting area. They were to have dinner in the Inquisitor’s quarters, even though she wasn’t here to host. The thought made him uncomfortable, but Josephine insisted that Trevelyan agreed to let her use it for events like these.

The balcony doors were opened wide, letting in the warm air of early summer. It felt so different than the last time he’d been up here, on the cusp of spring. There had been so much hope then, in the air and in his heart. He’d felt like he could do anything.

Now he knew better. 

Bechalet indicated they should walk out onto one of the balconies, the larger one overseeing the garden. He swirled his drink, watching the liquid whirl inside his glass. “I intend to discuss your operation in the Western Approach—I understand your Inquisitor is there currently—but there is something else I have to know first.” Cullen lifted his eyebrows in silent question as Bechalet evenly met his eyes and asked, “You are aware that I intend to marry her?”

“Who?”

“Ariana Trevelyan.”

“I’d heard something of that, yes.”

“Are you still engaged in an affair with her?”

“Still?” Cullen tried to keep his voice light. “That would imply there was one to begin with.”

“I am aware of your dalliance, if one could call it that. That is not my concern.” Bechalet leveled a look at him. “Any ongoing entanglement is, however. I will not have my future wife spread across the gossip pages because she spread her legs for some Fereldan dog lord.”

Cullen reared away from him at the insult. “I beg your pardon?”

Bechalet ignored him. “I will ask one more time. Is there anything that could be a problem?”

“I don’t see how that’s—”

“You do not want to make an enemy of me, Commander. The entire Inquisition will suffer should you choose to do so.”

Cullen stared at the cold, calculating smile the other man was giving him. Bechalet seemed to think that Cullen was a threat. Was he not aware that Ariana had already ended things and had already moved on? That she had already taken another lover? “There is not.”

Bechalet held his stare a moment longer before he looked up toward the sky in relief, sucking in a slow, deep breath. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“You already knew.”

Bechalet gave him another calculating look. “Despite what thoughts I have on the… feelings you may harbor for my future wife, we will have to work together. My uncle has great respect for the Inquisition and would like us to be allies.”

Cullen stared at the other man. “You can work with Ambassador Montilyet.”

“I will work with you.”

He pressed his lips together in annoyance as he watched the other man take a slow sip of his brandy. It was a power play, but Cullen didn’t see any way out of it. It wouldn’t do well to anger Orlais after the Inquisitor had done so much to get Gaspard on the throne.

At his continued silence, the prince continued, “Now, about what is happening in the Western Approach…”

The others found them standing on the patio discussing the nuances of the battlefield. As loathe as he was to admit it, having an Orlesian field marshal providing advice and strategy on the nuances of warfare in the Western Approach could make all the difference in how they fared during their operation.

Cullen shoved the intense dislike he’d developed for the other man into a compartment to deal with later. He didn’t quite know how he’d survived speaking with the man for so long after the start of their conversation. He didn’t know how he managed to survive the evening in the same room as Ariana.

Seeing her at Bechalet’s side had been excruciating. All Cullen wanted was for her to be happy. He already knew she hadn’t chosen him and that was enough. It had to be enough. He couldn’t harbor the hope that she would one day return his affection, not if he valued his sanity.

Tomorrow she would leave for the Emprise du Lion. It was for the best. The distance would help heal his shattered heart. 

Although even as he thought it, Cullen knew that was a lie. Maybe the pain would lessen someday, but the space that held Ariana Trevelyan would remain.


	34. Chapter 34

Relief flooded through Cullen when he finally spotted her, there in the distance, in the garden beyond the outer barrier, tending a patch of elfroot. She was covered in winter clothing, but even from this distance he could make out the shape and curves of her body, her black hair falling down her back. It was longer than the last time he had seen her. How long had it been? He’d never expected her to stay so long in Sahrnia.

He made his way over to where she worked as quickly as he could in the endless snow, his boots slipping in deep, making his movements feel slow and forced. She stood, a happy smile on her face. His heart swelled at seeing her smile again. He’d missed her so much.

Although she was walking the wrong direction, toward the trees, not toward him. He couldn’t reach her, she kept moving away from him, but he was finally almost there when he stopped dead in his tracks, his blood running cold. 

“Oh, Samson,” she sighed as his former friend turned Red Templar wrapped his arms around her waist, placing a kiss just below her jawline, in the spot on her neck that Cullen loved to tease.

“No!” he shouted, reaching for her. It was wrong, everything was _wrong_.

She turned her face toward him, red lyrium swimming in her eyes.

His hands were on her cheeks, clutching her face as he frantically tried to figure out what was going on. “No! Ariana!” 

Her eyes rolled back in her head as her head dropped back and red vapor from the corrupted lyrium began pouring out of her. Out of her eyes, her mouth, her nose, her ears, out of her very being. He watched in horror as she disintegrated in front of his eyes. 

“No!” 

A dark laughter started up behind him, relishing in his agony, as the next nightmare began.

When Cullen finally woke, he was covered in sweat sitting at his desk. He’d thought things could not possibly get worse, but he was wrong. 

Again. 

It had been four weeks since she’d left for the Emprise du Lion, one long painful month in which he was acutely aware of each passing day as the nightmares haunted him.

Cullen climbed to his loft for a quick shower, haphazardly dressing before descending again to his office where a soldier was already waiting with a tablet in his outstretched hand. “How much time do I have before my meeting?” 

“Not much, ser. The three most important reports.”

Cullen groaned. “Summarize them.” 

The soldier looked down at the tablet. “Rylen reports of issues with a varghest near Griffon Wing Keep. He will continue to investigate.”

“All right, next?” 

He swiped right on the screen. “Charter reports shifts in the trade network.”

“Really?” 

“Yes, it’s all in the—”

“Report, I know. What's the last one?” 

“Desjardins reports the bridge is almost complete.”

“That’s all?” 

“Yes?”

“Nothing about the relief efforts? Red Templars?”

The soldier scanned the screen again. “No, ser, only an update on the bridge and that there is no further information to report.”

“Give me that.” The scout handed the tablet to him. Cullen ran his eyes down the short message, concern growing within him. 

He stormed out of his office, not even pausing at Solas’s shocked face when he slammed the door to the rotunda behind him.

The other advisors were already in the war room, speaking with the Inquisitor in hushed voices. Josephine winced when she saw him and Trevelyan’s eyes shone with concern. “Maker’s blessings, Cullen, are you well?”

He ignored her question. “Have you heard from your sister?” 

“Not since I arrived at Skyhold, although that is not unusual—”

“Check on her,” he interrupted, casting his eyes around the table at each of the women standing there to be sure they understood.

“We received a report this morning from Suledin—” Josephine started.

He held the tablet with the offending report upright in front of him. “Yes, I’ve read it. Not good enough.” 

He dropped the tablet on the war table, his breathing loud in the still room. He was overreacting, he knew he was, but he hadn’t had time to work through the panic rising within him at the urgency his nightmares had taken lately.

Trevelyan evenly held his gaze. “Where is this coming from?”

“Nightmares.” He laid his hands on the table and hung his head. The Inquisitor shifted beside him and laid her hand on his shoulder. “Without lyrium, they’re worse.”

“Have you spoken with Solas recently?” 

“I have not.”

“He may have some ideas, but in the meantime...” Trevelyan turned to look at Leliana. “Who do we have in the Emprise?”

Leliana thoughtfully stared at the map on the table between them. “Michel.” 

“De Chevin?” Cullen asked, “What is he doing there?” 

“On loan from the Chevaliers at the request of the prince.” 

“Ask. See that he gets us an answer or I will go to Sahrnia myself.” 

“That’s not an option,” Trevelyan said, “We leave for the Western Approach on Moonday.”

“Already?” He’d not realized the day of departure was so soon, consumed as he was by sleeping troubles. 

His despondency must have been written on his face, because Trevelyan cleared her throat and told him, “Let’s see if we can get you some rest before then.”

Cullen allowed the Inquisitor to lead him out of the room and to the rotunda. He felt as though he were in a daze, the harsh light of morning showing him how irrational he was behaving.

“Solas?”

“Yes, _veh_—Inquisitor?” Solas looked up from his book to take in Cullen, his eyebrows lifting as he took a better look at him.

“Cullen?” Trevelyan’s bright green eyes were boring into him, encouraging him to tell his own story.

With a breath, he began to explain the nightmares he’d been having about Red Templars, only mentioning Ariana in that he had seen her infected by the red lyrium. He did not give any more details about seeing her in his dreams.

“The nightmares are escalating?” Solas mused, “And the bann is a part of those escalations?”

Cullen hesitated. “Yes, in the nightmares she is… with Samson.” 

Trevelyan interrupted, “With Samson? Cullen, why didn’t you tell us about this sooner?”

“It’s only recently that I’ve begun to wonder if there is more to it than just the Fade.” 

Trevelyan and Solas exchanged a look.

“I’ll go speak with the other advisors about this at once.”

“What about—” Cullen started, but was interrupted by the elven man.

“You will have a seat,” Solas instructed, gesturing to the small couch behind him as he stood. “Will you allow me to assist you with this?” 

Cullen rubbed his hands over his face. “Yes.

“Then I will be back with some tea in a moment.”

“Tea?”

“Yes, tea. Now sit down.”

Cullen felt as though he had just settled in when Solas approached with a steaming cup. “Here, this should help you relax.”

“Thank you, Solas.” Cullen accepted the cup, wrapping his hands around the warm mug. 

“You are welcome, Commander.” 

Cullen smelled the steaming liquid. It was not unpleasant, but it was not a scent with which he was familiar. There was a hint of spice as he took his first sip. As the warmth from the mug spread through him, the tension instantly released from his body. He focused on the cup, staring into it as though the dark liquid would be his salvation.

He looked up at Solas who was curiously peering at him. “I don’t think it worked.”

Solas chuckled, “Things are not always as they seem. How are you feeling now?”

“I… better, thank you.” Cullen stood. “Is there anything else?”

“You are free to go, but if the headaches return, you know where to find me.”

Cullen exited the rotunda toward his office, feeling surprisingly light despite the exhaustion that weighed heavy on his heart. He’d just stepped onto the stone bridge toward his office when a movement at the main entrance to the great hall caught his eye.

_Ariana_.

She was descending the stairs at a steady pace, her black hair wrapped on her head, glossy in the midday sun. His heart sped up at realizing she was back. That she was safe. He’d talk to Desjardins later about not informing him that she was en route.

He darted through the door to the keep and ran past Solas to the great hall in an attempt to catch up with her, rushing down the stairs until he grabbed her arm. “You’ve returned!”

Ariana seemed surprised to see him, but she laughed as Cullen swept her into his arms and spun her around. He pressed her up against the wall as his lips hovered mere inches away from hers. “Don’t leave me again.” 

He kissed her, his lips urgently pressing against hers, tongue delving deep inside. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her entire body against him.

As he broke away from the kiss, he recoiled at the sight of her glowing red eyes, the vapors emanating from her face. Her eyes blackened and he heard the familiar laughter of the nightmare drowning out his screams.

“Commander! Commander!” Solas’s voice cut through the haze as Cullen woke with a start. Solas peered down at him. He couldn’t remember where he was, but the pieces came crashing back to him as he realized he was lying on the small couch in the rotunda.

“What… what happened?” He rubbed his head as he sat up. It was already pounding with a headache.

“You fell asleep,” Solas said. He stroked his jaw in a contemplative gesture. “And had a nightmare.”

“Did I…?” Cullen’s face burned at the realization of what he’d been dreaming about.

“A few screams.”

“Nothing else?”

Dorian popped his head over the railing. “The screaming wasn’t enough for you? Maker, that was terrifying.”

“It seems more research is required. I am not clear on the spirit that is tormenting you.”

“How do you know there’s a demon tormenting me?”

Solas hesitated, casting his eyes up toward the upper levels of the rotunda. “Let’s take a walk.” 

The two men walked toward Cullen’s office in silence, pausing on the stone bridge between the two buildings. “You are aware that I am a dreamer, are you not?”

“Then… you saw what happened?”

“Yes.” Cullen’s face reddened at the realization of what Solas had seen. Solas must have seen the look on his face because he continued, “You are my patient, Commander. This stays between us. However, you are being tormented. I need to do some research first. I’ll be by later.”

“Thank you, Solas. For… for everything.” 

Solas gave him a tight smile and headed back toward the keep.

***

Later that evening, he climbed the stairs toward the Rookery. At the top, he saw Josephine and Leliana sitting on a bench, leaning in as they chatted, glasses of a pale yellow liquid in hand. Josephine even giggled as she took a sip, a sound he hadn’t heard from her in months. They looked happy. Relaxed. He really shouldn’t burden them right now. Not when these moments of freedom were so rare as the world crumbled around them. 

Or maybe it only crumbled around him.

He turned to head back the way he’d come, but Josephine’s worried voice broke through his thoughts. “Commander, are you all right?”

He froze. Blood rushed in his ears as pain pounded in his head. He shouldn’t be here right now.

“Cullen.” This time Leliana spoke from directly behind him.

He slowly turned. As he did, Leliana tentatively reached out to place her hand on his arm. “Come sit down.”

He shook his head. “No, I shouldn’t—“

“Let’s talk.”

“I…” He trailed off. He didn’t even know why he was here. It was his burden to bear, all of this. All of it of his own making. He couldn’t do this, not when they’d been so happy mere moments before. “No, I should go.”

“Oh! Look at the time.” Josephine stood, setting her glass on a table. “Those emails aren’t going to send themselves. You can keep the bottle, Leli.”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Josephine smiled. “My family sent a case.”

Cullen awkwardly stood at the top of the stairs as Josephine headed for him. When she reached him, she gave his forearm an encouraging squeeze, before making her way down the stairs.

“Leliana, I don’t—“

She pulled open a door and beckoned him to join her. “Come on. Let’s sit outside.”

He'd forgotten the Rookery had a balcony on the backside of Syhold. The balcony wrapped around the side and two wooden boxes were situated at the end, one cushion on top of each. Leliana took a seat on one and Cullen joined her, leaning back against the wall to stare at the night sky. They had not installed any lights on this side and Cullen could see millions of stars spread out across the sky beyond them. It was beautiful. The stars above were like a balm to his very soul. 

He hadn’t realized how much he missed seeing the night sky painted across his ceiling until this moment. He’d continued to avoid his loft even though it had been months since they’d last been together. Maybe it was time for him to move on. She would marry Bechalet and then she would be gone from his life forever.

He dropped his head back and stared up. He whispered the question to the sky above him, “You’ve always known, haven’t you?”

“I have,” Leliana confirmed.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I knew you would talk to me when you were ready.” 

Cullen sighed as he continued to stare at the sky. Maybe he should have said something to Leliana sooner. He’d been so focused on keeping the relationship and his burgeoning feelings for Ariana a secret, he hadn’t even considered confiding in someone about it. “She’s the Inquisitor’s sister.” 

"Forbidden fruit is the sweeter, no?”

“We tried to be discreet.”

“You were. Mostly.”

Cullen rolled his head to the side to look at her. “I thought you would tell her.”

“I considered it, but… you were happy. She was happy. How could I interfere in that?” She shrugged. “I did not realize...”

“That I’ve been in love with her since the moment I first saw her?”

“I knew there was more than the physical attraction, but not to that depth. You hid that well.”

He let out a long, slow breath. He didn’t know how he could survive without her. “I don’t know how to move forward.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“What is there to say? I love her and she left me. For Theirin.”

“Ahh, yes, Alistair. He has quite the way of interfering, doesn’t he?” 

“I suppose.” Cullen pressed his lips together before continuing, “I didn’t love Solona, though, not really.”

A long pause. “I did.”

He snapped his head over to look at her. Leliana was staring at him with an unwavering gaze. “You did?” 

She nodded. “It was one-sided. Painfully so at times.”

“I had no idea.”

“Why would you? It’s not as though we had a tragic love memorialized in song.”

Cullen hesitated, not sure how or if he should ask the next question, but he started anyway. “How did you…”

“Love her from afar?” Leliana completed the thought for him. “I don’t know. It was all I had.”

They both stared out at the night beyond them, both lost in their own thoughts. Cullen finally broke the silence. “Tell me what to do.” She shook her head as he dropped his head in his hands. “I feel like I’m drowning.”

“It will pass,” she said.

“Will it?”

Her response was swift. “Yes.”

“I haven’t slept in months.” 

“There’s always tomorrow.”

He leaned his head back against the wall again, staring up at the sky. “I love her... and she’s marrying another man.”

“Cullen...” Leliana sighed, “I know it hurts, but you will survive.” 

“I want her back,” he confessed.

Leliana gazed at him. “If I knew she wanted that, I would be the first to help, but you can’t force it.”

“I know.”

“Talk to Mother Giselle. Or someone. You’ll survive this. It’s not the worst you’ve lived through.”

“What if it is?” 

“Do you really believe that? You survived an abomination-infested Circle and, well, all of Kirkwall and this is the worst?” At Cullen's shrug, Leliana continued, “Oh. I am sorry. I should’ve said something sooner.” 

“But Trevelyan would have intervened,” Cullen sighed. 

He could sense her studying him before she quietly asked, “Would that not have been a kindness?” 

***

It was two days later when Solas finally knocked on Cullen’s office door. Cullen was nearing his wits' end. The next day would be Moonday and they would depart for the Western Approach. Maybe then he could find some bloody peace.

“I believe it to be a spirit of amusement,” Solas told him as he entered the office. He set down a small parcel on the desk. 

“Amusement? You mean to tell me it is merely entertaining itself?” Cullen ran his hands up his face and through his hair. Surely he’d heard incorrectly.

“Yes. It’s cruelty, however, is unusual.” Solas broke open the small container and pulled out several items. “Do you have a kettle?”

“Great.” Cullen walked over to the cabinet where he kept his coffee supplies and showed Solas the electric kettle. 

“Would you like me to speak with it?” 

“You can do that?”

“Yes, but it will require entering your dreams again.” 

Cullen pressed his lips together. “You won’t tell Trevelyan?” 

“I will not. As I told you before, Commander, you are my patient in this.”

Cullen sighed and flipped the switch to start the water boiling. “All right.”

As Solas worked whatever magic was required, Cullen sat in his desk chair and stared up at the ceiling. It had been three and a half months since the last time they’d been together yet it had felt like centuries. He was exhausted. All he wanted was to sleep for an eon and to wake up not missing her.

“Here you are.” Solas held out a mug of the same steaming liquid from several days prior.

Cullen lifted the mug toward Solas in a mock toast and drank it as quickly as he could manage.

It was no more than a few moments before Ariana burst through the door and rushed towards him. The initial elation that he felt at seeing her again was quickly replaced by the awkwardness of having Solas looking on as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Tell me you missed me as much as I missed you.”

He couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around her waist, from loving the way she felt in his arms. 

She tilted her face toward his and gave him a teasing smile. “Would you kiss me already?” 

As Cullen started to lower his head toward her, something felt off. She was shorter than he remembered. Was she not wearing heels?

Someone cleared their throat behind her and Cullen looked past her, noticing that Solas was still in the room.

“Maker’s breath.” He released Ariana and stepped back as heat crept up his neck.

“Cullen…” She whined, wrapping her arms around his waist. What was she doing?

“Bann Trevelyan, may I speak with you?” Solas asked, his intention focused on her.

She didn’t even look at him. “Cullen, take me upstairs and make love to me all night.”

The truth slammed into him. He was in the Fade. Of course, it all made sense now. Every piece of her that was off was because it wasn’t really her. The Ariana Trevelyan he knew would never describe what they’d done as _make love_. She was too careful for that. 

She hadn’t come back. She hadn’t really said those things.

He stepped out of her arms. “Solas needs to speak with you.”

She pouted at him. Now that he’d seen it, he couldn’t unsee that everything about her was wrong. The dull color of her skin, the flatness of her gaze… He may want whatever of her she was willing to give him, but not this.

She crossed her arms and turned toward Solas. “Fine. Then will you go away?”

Solas just gave her a neutral smile and led her out one of the side doors.

When she’d gone, Cullen felt overwhelmed by exhaustion. He climbed the ladder to his loft, dropping articles of clothing as he traversed the room until he finally fell face first into bed.

***

“Don't you know what it's like to fall for someone? Even though you know in your heart that it'll probably never work out, but you'd do anything for that person?" 

Cullen dropped the cloth he'd been using to clean his gun and looked toward the man. Theirin paced nearby, the warm glow of the sunset casting long shadows on his already shadowed face. He could just make out Hawke's small figure perched on a stool nearby.

He’d been at the camp outside Griffon Wing Keep for only a few days since the majority of the preparations had taken place from Skyhold as the army moved into position, but it was already too long.

The man’s question sounded rhetorical, but Theirin's tone was urgent as he tried to make Hawke understand what he was trying to tell her. Cullen had avoided spending time with the Grey Warden as much as possible and this was why. He was overwhelmed by the raw emotion he felt at the truth behind those words. 

He could relate a lot more to the man than he cared to admit out loud. He had fallen for her knowing that it would never end well. She had told him as much that cold winter day as they drove back to Skyhold. 

_We have no future_. 

The words still echoed in his mind today as clear as when she had first spoken them. She’d been firm that her duty would supersede all else. Her duty was all she had left. Despite her honesty and despite his best effort not to, he had fallen in love. When he did, she walked away.

It was a coincidence that she had walked straight into Theirin’s arms. He hadn't known the two of them already had a history together. Not that that knowledge would have changed anything. 

Hawke patted the Grey Warden’s arm as he sat back down. 

“Am I that unloveable?” he lamented.

Cullen turned away as the question washed over him. _Am I?_

He felt sorry for the man, but not too sorry. The two men had been connected by their love for the same two remarkable women. He wasn’t sure if it was worse being left for another man or being left simply because love wasn’t enough. Both were equally terrible in their own way, he supposed. 

Hawke's unusually somber voice cut through his thoughts. “Of course not, Al." 

Cullen finally picked back up his cloth to finish cleaning. He'd been in the Western Approach for no more than a week, but the nights seemed to stretch on forever.

"I love her," Theirin sniffled into his mug of ale. "The hope that she would eventually say yes… it was the only thing that sustained me all these years, but now…"

"Stop talking like that right now. You know there are more important things at stake."

Theirin let out a sardonic laugh. “Of course. How could I ever forget my _duty_ to Thedas? It's lost me the only two women I've ever loved."

"It's not about you."

"Why not? Maybe I _should_ be selfish. Forget the Grey Wardens, they're off their rockers anyway. Maybe I'll run away to the Free Marches."

"Then what? Spend your life running like those mages you helped protect? Only see her under the cover of darkness like some dirty secret? That's no life."

No, no it wasn’t. Cullen wholeheartedly agreed with Hawke on that at least.

"The irony is not lost on me that had I taken that void-forsaken crown Solona handed me, I wouldn't be in this predicament."

"But then you'd have been married off to some pliant young noblewoman and never would have met her."

"Right," Theirin sighed as he plopped down on a stool next to her. “How do you do it, Hawke?”

She shrugged, “He knows I’ll be with him when I can. When all this is over. I love him, but like I said, there are more important things at stake right now.”

Cullen sighed as they fell into silence, finishing his task. As he put the cleaning supplies away, Solas approached him. “Commander, how are you feeling?” 

“Better. Thank you. Between that and the withdrawals… I didn’t know if I was going to make it here at all.”

Solas smiled, but his attention wasn’t on Cullen. It was directed across the camp. Cullen turned to follow his gaze and it landed on Trevelyan. She was standing with arms crossed, talking to Sera. Cullen’s eyes darted back to Solas who was still staring.

“Doctor?” Solas snapped out of whatever he’d been thinking and looked back at Cullen. “Could you check on her?”

“Who?”

“Bann Trevelyan.” 

He lifted his eyebrows. “Have you not received reports?” 

“I mean... like you did with the Inquisitor.”

“Ah.” Solas glanced at Trevelyan, before he continued, “No, that was an extenuating circumstance. I will not enter her dreams without permission.”

“All right,” Cullen sighed, looking back down at his weapon. Time to start reassembling. 

“But…” Cullen snapped his eyes back up to Solas as the elven man said, “I am willing to check whether there is anything concerning happening, given what you experienced.” 

“It would be a relief to know she is safe. Thank you. Again.”

“It was nothing, Commander. Rest well.”

***

Cullen was standing in the middle of the war tent, bent over the table of maps laid out in front of him, studying the access points his officers had designated for the fortress. They’d gone over it late into the night and he still wasn’t happy with the plan they’d come up with. With the planned date of assault rapidly approaching, they needed a plan and they needed it now. 

“Commander!”

Cullen snapped his head up to see Karner running up to the tent, hands filled with rolls of paper. More maps. He sighed, “Lieutenant.”

“I’ve got something. It’s unconventional, but it just might work.”

“Should I call the others?”

“Not yet.” She shook her head. “You know Portiers will disagree with anything I suggest.”

“That’s not true.” 

“It is true. He thinks I’m too young and, worse, I’m a woman.” Karner paused to suck in a breath, before continuing, “But I’m the only one here who studied at the _Université National de Guerre_. And you’re welcome.” She dumped the rolled papers into the table in front of them. 

“What’s this?”

“The librarian at the _Université_ found old schematics of Adamant deep in the stacks.”

He unrolled one of the papers. It was entirely new information and would give them better insight on the weaknesses of the fortress. “Karner, you’re a genius.”

She beamed back at him. “I know.”

“We’ll meet in twenty. Get the others. It’s time to let our allies know we’re ready.”

Cullen strode toward the communications tent. He pulled the flap aside and stepped inside, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the tent. As he waited, he could have sworn he heard Ariana’s laugh. It couldn’t be. She was across the country in Sahrnia, not here. Then he heard it again… 

He looked around and saw Rylen sitting in front of a screen… and Ariana’s face spread across that same screen. She was smiling. Cullen’s heart clenched, first in pain, then in relief at seeing her like that, unassuming and happy. 

She was _happy_.

“Be easy on him,” Rylen laughed. “Desjardins doesn’t have anyone else.”

The side of her mouth had a playful twist as she responded, “Ask nicely and I’ll consider it.”

“Please be nice, caredge.” Caredge? What did _that_ mean?

“Okay, but let the record show I’m doing this for you. I couldn’t care less about Desjardins.”

He shook his head. “Stay out of trouble.”

Ariana held up a hand to the screen as she said something in another language and the screen went black. Rylen was still smiling when he stood and turned, catching sight of Cullen.

“Commander! Good morning.” Rylen nodded at him. 

“We’re convening in the war tent in twenty.”

Rylen nodded again as he started toward the exit. “Understood.” 

“Rylen. You’re in contact with Bann Trevelyan?”

“Aye.” 

“Why?”

“Desjardins begged me to talk to her. He's had difficulties continuing her training, she's not been easy on his troops,” Rylen chuckled, shaking his head even as a smile appeared. 

“Is that so?”

“I may have to ask de Chevin to do it. The soldiers we have out there keep backing out.”

Cullen frowned at him before he approached one of the switchboard operators. “Get me Bechalet.”

“At once, ser.” The woman put on a headset and began moving switches around. 

“Rylen.” The man had one hand about to pull back the flap to leave. At hearing his name, he paused and turned back. “You called the bann ‘caredge’, what does that mean?” 

“Caredge?” Rylen’s eyes lifted toward the top of the tent. “I don’t know what that might... Oh. I probably said _caraid_.”

“What does that mean?”

“Friend.”

“Do you talk often?”

“Often? Nae, first time in a fortnight,” Rylen shrugged.

Cullen cast a glance back at the operator who was still working on the call. “How is she?”

Rylen shrugged. “She says she’s fine, but…”

Cullen frowned. “Is she not happy?”

“I don’t know, ser. She’d never let on if she's not.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She was to be our princess. It takes a special person to withstand the attention that brings.”

Right, the media. He knew they'd been brutal to her and he hated them for it, but she'd continued to expertly handle them even now. “She covers it that well?” 

“Aye. I'd not bet against her in a game of diamondback.”

“Is that so? Then, do you think—” Cullen started, but the switchboard operator interrupted.

“Commander? We're ready on line one.” Cullen nodded at Rylen as he accepted the headset from the operator with a sigh. Rylen nodded in response before he disappeared through the tent flap as the operator said, “Go for line one.”

“Prince Bechalet?”

“Commander.”

“We’re ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Université National de Guerre_ \- (French) National War College  
_caraid_ \- (Gàidhlig) friend


	35. Chapter 35

When the news of the Inquisition’s victory at Adamant Fortress reached her at Sahrnia, more than two months had passed since she’d left Skyhold. Not that Ariana believed she’d ever be ready to return. She’d found a routine in the small village by the lake and work that left her with some fulfillment as she worked alongside the villagers to rebuild their lives. It was much too late in the season to do any planting when the ice finally melted away, but she helped prepare the village’s food stores to ensure they were adequate enough to get them through the coming winter and to plant the following year. Hunting and fishing had been the major sources of food for the villagers while the ground had been frozen solid, and she hoped that would be enough to get them through. It had to be.

Messages from her sister were few and far between and on occasion she received updates from the soldiers stationed at Suledin Keep. There had also been the few times she’d spoken with Rylen where she’d tried to ask for updates about Cullen—casually—but Rylen hadn’t grasped what she was getting at and hadn’t really answered her questions. She'd not heard anything of him from the Inquisition since the battle began. 

Though she had gotten one tiny glimpse of him in the Orlesian newspaper the villagers subscribed to. She’d thought she imagined it when she saw it the first time, but after seeing his face several more times that same day, she’d sucked it up and bought the paper for herself. Aside from the quick snap of the photo of the two of them in the Hinterlands, it was the only photo of him she had. She’d carefully clipped it out and tucked it away, only pulling it out when she knew she was well and truly alone.

She would trace the lines of his face with her eyes. Remembering what it had been like to do so with her fingers. The cleft of his chin, the line of his scar, the feel of the stubble along his jaw and the perfect shape of his lips... but it wasn’t to be. She had to marry Jean-Luc and Cullen would be a distant memory. Someday.

After Halamshiral, the gossip magazines speculated that the union between her and the new prince was imminent. At least they were right about something for once, though there had been little movement on a formal engagement. With his uncle recently crowned the new emperor of Orlais, Jean-Luc’s time was consumed by priorities of the empire. His uncle wanted to ally with the Inquisition, not take over the world. His uncle wasn’t standing in his way, but Ariana knew Gaspard _was_ limiting Jean-Luc’s ambition. At least for the time being.

With the Inquisition’s armies returning to Skyhold and the villagers once again self-sufficient, she knew the time had come for her to return as well.

Michel drove her back. The chevalier had been her closest friend over the summer since the villagers were either afraid of her or in awe of her… she wasn’t sure which. The Inquisition soldiers had also kept a healthy distance. Desjardins said it was because she’d been too hard on the ones who’d been assigned to train her, but... she wondered. They'd all been worthless anyway, as was Desjardins. Michel dropped her inside the gates of Skyhold and, with a kiss on each cheek, left again. He would be rejoining the emperor’s Royal Guard within the week, now that his penance had been repaid.

It was one of those lazy summer afternoons—too hot outside to do much of anything useful—about a week after she’d returned, when Ariana, Varric, Dorian, and Cole sat inside the great hall, casually playing cards. Evelyn had only taken a handful of her closest companions with her to Adamant, leaving the rest behind at Skyhold to keep watch and to protect the fortress in her and the army’s absence. 

“I’m bored,” Dorian declared, throwing his stack of cards face down on the table. “When will something exciting happen again?”

“You are? Then can I ask you a question?” Cole perked up in the seat across from him.

“No. Not today,” Dorian sighed, “I don’t have the energy for it.”

Cole frowned at Dorian, but then tilted his head as though he were listening to something in the distance. He turned his blue eyes on Ariana, a sad look in them. “He still hurts, even after all this time.”

“Who does, Kid?” Varric asked as he took a look at Dorian’s cards, letting out a low whistle as he did.

Cole didn’t respond, but instead kept his focus on Ariana, an urgency in his eyes as though he wanted her to understand something. Who was he talking about?

“Well?” Varric asked, finally looking up. Even Dorian had turned toward the young man in curiosity.

Cole looked pained. “I can’t say. It’s a _secret_.”

Ariana’s breath caught at his enunciation of the word secret. Did he mean... no, he couldn't. It wasn't possible.

“You’re not usually so cagey about it,” Dorian frowned at him.

Cole shifted his gaze to Varric. “How do I tell him? Will he ever forgive me?” He didn't even wait for the words to register with Varric before he turned back to Ariana. “An impossible choice. Did I make the right one?”

“Kid, you’re scaring me now. What are you—”

Josephine burst into the main hall from her office. “The Inquisitor has returned to Skyhold!”

Pandemonium erupted as Ariana leapt from her seat along with the others and rushed through the front entrance and down the stairs to the courtyard. She paused at the top of the final staircase as the first vehicle rolled through the main gate, several other matching white SUVs following closely behind. 

One by one they parked in the lower courtyard as Inquisition attendants rushed out to greet them. The courtyard became a hive of activity, people moving every which way, but still her eyes were drawn to the one person she couldn't break free of. Her heart lurched as she caught sight of Cullen step out from the passenger side of one of the vehicles, and her breath caught in her chest at the sight of him. In the months since she’d last seen him, he’d grown a beard and his hair was all wild curls. He looked worn down and exhausted, even from this distance. He scanned the area around him, taking in the people who’d begun to surround them.

That blonde soldier—Karner, Ariana remembered—got out from behind the wheel of the same vehicle and hurried around the front toward him. Cullen nodded at her and placed one arm around her shoulders. Ariana noticed the crutch under his other arm as he took an unsteady step. He adjusted his grip on Karner and the pair deliberately made their way toward the side stairs.

There was familiarity there… and comfort. They obviously knew each other well. Very well. Pain and disappointment washed over her. Even though it was still irrational for her to feel that way, she knew it was, he’d lodged himself deep inside of her and she hadn’t been able to shake him even as the weeks and months passed. Her body couldn't forget the way it felt to be completed by him and her heart wouldn't forget the way it felt to be protected in his hands.

She almost closed her eyes, overtaken by the pain, but her sister’s white hair caught her attention. Now that Cullen was far enough away, Ariana finished descending the stairs. Her sister stood with Solas, his head bowed toward hers, as he quietly spoke to her. Everyone was giving them a wide berth. Well, everyone except her.

“Eve, what happened?” she asked as she approached the pair.

Her sister shifted her vivid green eyes away from Solas toward her, the pain in them shimmering, but she simply shook her head.

Ariana pressed forward. “Why is everyone so... I don't know. I thought the Inquisition won the battle.”

Evelyn stepped away from Solas. The pain shifting to annoyance. “Not that you'd understand, would you? You have no idea what happened to us.”

She pressed her mouth shut as she stared at her sister, not knowing what else to say to in response. “I want to know though.”

“Do you really, Ariana? Fine. Hawke is dead and I made the choice that killed her.”

Evelyn didn't wait for her to respond as she brushed past toward the keep. As he followed, Solas gave her a sympathetic smile and told her, “It's been difficult for her. Have patience.”

Left alone in the middle of the still bustling courtyard, Ariana fought back the tears that pricked at the backs of her eyes. Was there anything left here for her?

***

“Bann Trevelyan.” His voice sliced through the silence from behind her, cutting into her thoughts. She didn’t know what had brought her here, standing in his empty office, waiting for him.

_Liar_, she admonished, _You know why you’re here. You had to see him._

She turned her head to look him as he dumped a stack of papers onto his desk next to her. It was the closest they’d been in months. The beard was gone, replaced by his usual stubble, but his eyes… his once alive eyes had dulled. There was no emotion in them as he looked at her.

They’d returned three days ago. She hadn’t gotten the complete picture as her sister wouldn’t speak any more of it. Nor would the others. They'd all refused to talk about what exactly had happened to them. She’d heard a few soldiers in the tavern discussing the archdemon that appeared out of nowhere and how her sister had reappeared through a Fade rift at the end of battle. The Grey Wardens had been banished from the south. Ariana still wasn’t clear what exactly happened to Hawke, but she was dead. Her sister had told her that much.

“What can I do for you?” His words were sharp as he carefully limped around the desk to stand across from her, arms defensively crossed across his body. 

“I don’t know.” She let out a long breath before capturing her lower lip between her teeth. _Liar._

He lifted his eyebrows. “You don’t know… or you don’t want to say?”

She sucked in a breath as he held her gaze. Her eyes must have said all he needed to know, as a dark smile curled one side of his lips and a spark appeared in his eyes. “I see.” 

That tiny spark shifted into a desire that darkened his eyes, the dulled amber turning that familiar shade of molten gold that danced in the low lamp light. Maybe there was hope yet. Maybe there was still something here worth fighting for.

He slowly made his way back around his desk toward her frozen figure, coming up to stand inches behind her. Close enough for her to feel his body heat, yet not touching her. Every inch of her was screaming in desire for his hands to be all over her, but she couldn’t find her voice. His breath was hot on her ear. “Do you want me to touch you?” 

A quiet breath escaped her lips as arousal shot through her again and her body shuddered at the promise in his voice. She nodded, too afraid that if she spoke it would break the moment.

“Say it,” he instructed, unmoving.

Her voice was no more than a whisper, “Yes.” 

“Yes what?”

“I want you to touch me.”

Her heart skipped a beat when he lightly rested his hands on her hips. At first, he didn't move, his touch no more than a gentle caress, but before long they began to explore her hips and her backside. His hands stopped moving as he hesitated. “This isn’t right.”

“Does it matter? I—”

“It does to me,” he interrupted. 

She closed her eyes, dropping her head forward as she curled her fingers into her hands. What was she even doing her? Why had she even come, knowing what she knew? What could she possibly gain from seeing him again?

“Why are you here?” he asked again, his voice a gentle caress in her ear as his fingers tightened on her hips when he stepped closer to her.

Her eyes flew open at the movement, but she only shook her head and stared at the desk in front of her. It was clean and organized, so different from the clutter she’d expected to be spread across it. Had he changed that much in only a few short months?

“I shouldn’t be,” she said with another shake of her head. _What was she doing here_? The question repeated itself over and over in her mind, as much as she tried to deny it. She knew—she _knew_—she shouldn’t have come, but she had to. She had to see him.

“Yet you are.” 

His fingers twitched on her hips and a word slid off her tongue unbidden. “Please…”

“Please what?”

“Touch me,” she begged, “I… I need you.”

He sucked in a breath, but didn’t move. His breath was hot at her neck as he took several slow and measured breaths. Ariana's heart raced as she fought the need that welled up inside of her, trying to commit every second of him to memory. Then he slid his hands up along the sides of her to cup her breasts. She sucked in a breath at the desire that surged through her. Her nipples strained against the soft fabric of her dress and he lightly pinched them, teasing them, twisting them. His touch was gentle and uncertain, as though he were restraining himself.

“What else do you want?” His mouth was now murmuring at her other ear. She could almost feel his lips against her as he spoke, the sounds reverberating along her sensitized skin. The dark baritone of his voice sent another, visible shiver down her body.

“I want—” She started to turn toward him, but he grabbed her hips and pinned them against the desk. She gasped, not so much at the movement as at the feel of his desire pressing against her backside. He rocked his hips, rubbing against her and he let out a soft sigh. That sigh was familiar, one she knew well. One she'd thought about and dreamt about. She rolled her hips against him in response, but he stilled with an annoyed grunt. She let out a frustrated huff as his hands pinned her to the desk in front of her.

“Go on,” he drawled. 

“Go on?” She'd forgotten what they'd been speaking about. 

“What is it that you want?” 

Her swallow sounded loud in her ears. Should she tell him or should she... Fuck it. “I want your mouth on me.” 

He deliberately brushed her hair over her shoulder in a slow motion before he pressed his lips to her exposed neck, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin. “Like that?”

“Yes,” she hummed in pleasure at the feeling of his mouth burning kisses along her neck and back.

“Ariana…” he sighed her name like a prayer as his lips again brushed at the back of her neck. “Where else do you want my mouth?” 

She groaned again, but didn’t respond. He stopped, pulling away. She tried to wriggle against him, but he tightly gripped her hips to keep her pinned to the edge of the desk. She made an impatient noise and he rewarded her with one of his low chuckles. “Use your words.” 

The sound seemed to set every nerve in her body on alert. Being so close to him again was intoxicating. “Everywhere,” she gasped. 

He moved one hand lower toward the wetness between her legs. He rubbed the fabric of her dress against her and in what felt like no time at all, she felt the dampened fabric roughly rubbing against her sensitive clit.

“Do you want me to go down on you, Ariana? To make you come with my mouth?”

She took deep breaths as he continued to lazily rub circles with his fingers between her legs. 

“Andraste, yes,” she begged.

His hips slightly bucked into her at her words. He tugged at the skirt of her dress, lifting it over the curve of her backside.

“Bend over.” His hand pressed into the center of her back to push her against the top of the desk. Cool air hit her as he lifted her dress to waist, baring her backside for him.

“Nothing underneath? Good.” His hands caressed her bare cheeks, spreading them, kneading them, playing with them as he bent over her, his erection again pressing into her. With only the fabric of his trousers separating them now, she could feel the heat of his hard length and she knew how much he wanted her. He wasn't faking that.

He grabbed one of her hands and moved it up to the other edge of the desk before doing the same with the other one. “Don’t move your hands.”

She gripped the far edge of the desk, feeling the loss of his warmth as he stepped back from her. A moment later she felt him separating her cheeks and he ran a finger along her slit, spreading her arousal around her backside. The motion was quickly followed by his tongue sliding along her folds before he slipped his tongue inside her. She cried out from the sensation, writhing in pleasure against the desk. 

One of his hands lifted between her legs and he rubbed her clit with his fingers in time with his tongue that worked in and out of her. She had been so desperate for him that when he squeezed her clit with his fingers, the combination pushed her over the edge. She shuddered, feeling the completion at having him pushing her body to the brink again. There was something with him that she’d never felt with anyone else. That she never would.

As soon as her body stopped convulsing, he pulled away again, his hands firmly back on her waist. She lay catching her breath as she continued to come down from her orgasm. 

She felt the rough fabric of his trousers as he pressed his hips back into her, his erection firm between her cheeks.

“What else do you want?” he asked, his voice tight. She tried to reach her arms back to touch him, but he grabbed her wrists, pinning her arms against the desk beside her. “I told you not to move.”

She fruitlessly clutched at the desk beneath her fingers as she groaned, “I want you.” 

His chuckle was dark, sending another frisson through her body. “More specifically.” 

He ran his hands over her backside again. She groaned, feeling the wetness between her legs sliding down her inner thighs. She rubbed her thighs together and rocked against the desk, attempting to relieve some of the building pressure, but it wasn’t the same. She needed him.

“Say. It.” The words were forced and tight. He seemed to be losing control and she wriggled her hips against him to tease him. She couldn’t see him, but she could imagine the tense look on his face. That one of self-control. She’d fantasized about making him lose control again. With her. Not with anyone else. 

With her. He should be with her.

“I want you inside me.” 

He pulled away from her as he freed himself from his trousers and took himself in hand. Seconds later she felt the rounded tip of his cock at her entrance. 

“What part of me?” he teased her, rubbing his cock back and forth along her slit, coating himself in her dripping arousal. He slid the head against her clit and she shuddered, the still sensitive nub shooting pleasure through her body.

“Your cock… _Please_.” 

He eased into her in one fluid movement. He didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed inside of her. She cried out again, both of their moans echoing off the stone walls. The feeling of him inside of her was overwhelming. It was everything she'd _fantasized_ about and more. 

He fulfilled her.

He slowly pulled out of her before sliding back into her equally as slowly, but she was more than ready for him and he began taking her with harder, deeper thrusts, pounding into her quivering body. Again and again, harder and faster, pressing her hips against the hard wood of his desk. 

His hand was at the nape of her neck, twirling her hair around his hand. He gave her hair a yank and her head snapped back toward him, making her back arch and her chest press forward, giving him deeper access inside of her.

“Tell me how much you love being _fucked_ by me,” he demanded, his voice tight and straining against the facade of his control.

“Oh, Cullen,” she moaned, hovering on the edge of another orgasm as he continued to pound into her, drowning in the sensation of the smooth wood at her chest, his fingers digging into her hips, and the angle of his cock inside of her. She could feel his balls slapping against her sensitive clit, pleasuring coursing through her throbbing body with each thrust. “I love how you fuck me.”

The walls echoed with the sounds of sex. The moans, the hoarse cries, the ragged breaths and of their bodies slapping together as he claimed her.

“Is. This. What. You. Want?” Every word was emphasized with a thrust so hard her hips dug into the desk. She knew she would have bruises in the morning.

“Maker, yes.” His cock found her sensitive spot. The way he was rubbing against her, the way he slid in and out of her had pleasuring coiling again at the base of her spine. She reached for it, chasing it each time he filled her. When he bent over her and his teeth brushed the back of her neck, Ariana splintered into pieces around him

After several more hard thrusts, a guttural cry erupted from his throat and his body shuddered in completion inside of her. She could have sworn she heard her name in the breath that followed as he collapsed on top of her, his forehead against her shoulder. His lips ghosted along the back of her neck and Ariana reveled in the feeling of his body on hers again. 

The feeling was short lived. As soon as he caught his breath, he slid out of her. She’d always felt the loss when he pulled out of her, but this time felt… different. Worse somehow. Like he’d taken another piece of her with him.

She pushed herself up onto her arms and tried to stand, leaning against the desk to keep her upright as her legs quivered in the aftermath. She struggled to pull her dress back down to cover herself, while Cullen limped back around his desk and settled into his chair. 

He leaned forward to pick up one of the documents he’d dumped on the desk earlier and focused on it. Without even a glance in her direction, he dismissed her, “Now that you’ve gotten what you wanted, get out.”

“Cullen, I—”

“It’s Commander,” he interrupted, his amber eyes finally lifting to meet hers. They held no warmth. “And I said, 'Get out'.” 

The room closed in on her. She couldn’t breathe. She turned and attempted to walk out of his office with as much dignity as she could muster. As soon as she made it through the door, quietly closing it behind her, she collapsed against the wall. Unable to stop herself, she allowed the sobs to overtake her body. 

She had been a fool, but what did she expect? Of course he hated her. _She_ was the one who’d been unable to let him go in peace. He deserved better than her jealous heart doing what it could to keep him close.

When there were no more tears left to fall, she forced herself to her feet and forced herself to walk toward the keep. The rotunda was dark and quiet as she stole through to an eerily silent great hall. The joy had left Skyhold when the army returned from Adamant Fortress. 

She made her way across the room, pausing when she heard a small hiccup behind her. She listened for a moment, the muffled sobs echoing in her chest. She turned, spotting Varric lying near the fireplace, head laid back against a cushion as the emotion wracked his body. She kneeled next to him, putting her hand on his shoulder to let him know she was there. 

He rubbed the tears away before tilting his face toward her. “Oh, it’s just you, Princess.” He pushed himself up until they sat side by side.

She gave him a sad attempt at a smile. “Just me, Varric.”

He sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve, before letting out a loud sigh. “Well… shit.”

“Yeah.” She wrapped one arm around his shoulder and he leaned his head on her shoulder, the two of them staring into the dying embers of the fireplace. They didn’t speak, each of them lost in their own thoughts. 

Finally, Varric said, “Someone will have to tell Choir Boy. I’m really not looking forward to writing this letter.”

“Choir Boy? Is that…?”

“Sebastian.” Varric let out another choked sob, wet tears running down his cheeks.

A thought flashed through Ariana’s head and she spoke before she had a chance to reconsider, “I’ll deliver it.”

“You’ll what?”

“Deliver it. In person. The Vaels are… old friends of my family.” The tears returned, running down her cheeks. “He’s already lost so much.”

Varric blew out a breath. “Shit, Princess, I didn’t even think about—”

“Don’t.” She squeezed her eyes shut, a feeble attempt at forcing the images out of her mind as she felt the tears venture further down her neck. “He shouldn’t be alone when he finds out. I’ll leave early tomorrow.”

Varric pushed himself to his feet and dusted his trousers off, picking up the bottle of whiskey that was sitting next to him. “Then that’s my cue to write.” Her attempt at a smile was weak, but he rested his hand on her shoulder. “I’m gonna miss her.”

Ariana dropped her head as his steps grew fainter. The magnitude of what had happened was suffocating, the darkness drawing her in, beckoning her. A noise ripped from her throat like that of a frightened animal as she bent at the waist and let the sobs escape again.

Alistair had not returned, banished with the rest of the Grey Wardens to the Anderfels, but the relief she’d felt at learning of his survival was immediate. After the relief though was the realization again that Hawke hadn’t made it... _Hawke_. Her friend. The woman whom Sebastian had given his heart, made her his equal, and had planned to make a life… A bloodcurdling sob erupted from her chest, reverberating through the great hall as the tears continued.

She’d known that the Inquisition would shape the world—and _her_ world—in ways she couldn’t imagine when she showed up on their doorstep last year, but she that world was collapsing around her now. 

She could not bear it.

***

A mist hung over Skyhold as the SUV slowly rolled over the stone bridge. Ariana breathed a deep breath as she thought about the journey that would be taking her back to Starkhaven. Taking her _home_. Starkhaven would be a balm to her soul in more ways than one.

Sebastian had always been the big brother she’d never had. The one to protect her and look out for her. Although he was considerably older than her, Lachlan’s fun-loving uncle had always treated her like she mattered in a room full of important people.

When it had mattered, Sebastian had saved her. He found her in the darkness and helped her find her own way back into the light. As much as her heart ached for herself at Hawke’s loss, it was nothing in comparison to how earth-shattering the news would be for her old friend.

She set a relentless pace, barely stopping to sleep and eat. She insisted on trading driving duties with the soldier accompanying her, only sleeping when she wasn’t driving. A late summer storm had blanketed the Free Marches with foul weather, making the mountain roads difficult to navigate in the downpour. The last several days were far more exhausting than they should have been.

When she almost fell asleep on the road, she’d agreed to let the soldier drive the remainder of the way. When she woke, she was in a bed with Sebastian sitting next to her, hands clasped around her own, intently staring at her with his vibrant blue eyes.

“_Phiuthar_.” He squeezed the hand clasped between his, giving her an encouraging smile. “What could be so important that you would forgo your own health?”

“Seb…” Her voice was gravelly from the lack of use, the tears hot behind her eyes as she sought the words. “It’s Hawke.” 

He froze, his eyes locked on hers, jaw tight as he processed what she was saying.

“I’m sorry,” she continued.

He shot out of his chair, walking to the window to silently stare at the storm raging outside. She sat up in bed, watching him, listening to the fire crackle in the fireplace, counting the seconds until he finally acknowledged what she’d said.

His voice cracked when he finally spoke, “How?”

“All I know is that she… she insisted she stay behind.” Ariana’s tears were falling again, heavier than they had over the previous week. These tears… these were for Sebastian and Hawke. The tears for herself would come later.

His smile was sad, “That’s _mo ghràdh_.”

“She saved them all, Seb. Us all.” 

His eyes fluttered closed as he allowed her words to sink in. 

Ariana slid her legs over the side of the bed and shuffled over to her bag, digging around in the pockets. She held out the crumpled paper toward him. “Varric wanted you to have this.”

He stared at the letter in her hand until her arm shook. Tentatively, he reached for it. Before he could grab hold, he collapsed on the ground with silent sobs wracking his body. Ariana kneeled down beside him and wrapped her arms around him.

She had a fleeting memory of that day more than eleven years ago at Southwatch when she received the phone call about his family. She had been completely alone when she learned that her entire world had been ripped from her. At the time, she was convinced that Lachlan was the only person she’d ever love. They were so young, but she expected to marry him, to spend her life learning him, and to start a family with him. The life she’d ended up with was not what she expected. It was not what she planned. 

Sebastian let out a sob and Ariana wrapped her arms tighter around him, holding him through the pain. She didn’t know how long they sat like that, but eventually Sebastian stirred. With a kiss on her forehead, he left the room.

Ariana felt adrift as she sat, alone with her own thoughts. Thoughts she tried so hard to ignore. Every time a thought of Cullen snuck in, she felt selfish. She knew only a piece of the sheer pain that Sebastian had to be experiencing, yet here she was lamenting about herself. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been. Had she known that getting involved with him was going to be a disaster of epic proportions, she never would have allowed it, but she couldn’t seem to control herself when it came to him.

_This isn’t right_, he’d told her. He’d tried to stop it, but hadn’t. Neither of them had been strong enough... but what did it matter? There wasn’t anything further for them. What was it that Cole had said? _He still hurts, even after all this time?_ That hurt had twisted what had once been love into hatred, which Ariana knew was all he felt for her now. She had no doubt he wanted nothing more to do with her anymore. 

She leapt up, refusing to dwell on that thought, as she walked to the window. The rain was pouring outside. Starkhaven had always been one of Ariana’s favorite places growing up, but now… now it felt as though the palace walls were closing in around her, suffocating her. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

A quiet knock on the door broke through her thoughts, and she rose to open it, her bare feet padding across the wool rug onto the cold stone floor. She cracked open the door to see Sebastian’s face, shadowed, the firelight illuminating his high cheekbones and the dark circles under his eyes. 

Wordlessly, she turned and walked back toward her seat in front of the fire as he followed, sinking into the chair next to her. He leaned his head back against the high back. 

Seconds turned into minutes as they sat in silence, listening to the fire crackling and the wind howling against the glass window panes. With a soft sigh, he straightened in the chair and looked at her. “May I?”

“Always.”

With a shuddering breath, he started to talk. First, about Hawke and her vivacious personality, the light she’d brought to his life in those dark days after his family was taken from him. From them. Hawke had avenged their murder, no questions asked, and had selflessly loved Sebastian in the years that followed. She had pushed him to be a better man, one who could honor both the Maker and his duty to Starkhaven.

He turned his stories to the memories of her, their time together had been short, but some of the happiest of his life. Ariana listened to the sound of his voice catching and the ragged breath as tears streamed down his face.

She felt as though she knew his heart at that moment. The brief feeling of reprieve followed by the further depth and heartache that only the loss of that heart, of having it ripped out, could bring. The darkness that was threatening to follow him whole. Why had the Maker so intimately intertwined their lives? Why was He so cruel to those who had loved him the most?

Sebastian didn’t deserve so much pain when he’d been so faithful. Why did that Maker allow the worst to happen to those who loved Him most?

He collapsed into himself as the pain finally overtook him again. She didn’t know what to do, how to comfort him here in this moment, except to sit with him and let him grieve.

***

“What is your problem?” Trevelyan’s voice sliced through his thoughts, his body freezing mid-step. 

He lifted his eyebrows at her before he resumed his paces. “Inquisitor?”

“You’ve walked around the room ten times…”

“Twelve,” he muttered under his breath.

“…Since I arrived.”

“What of it?”

“You’ve been irritable for weeks.”

“What of it, Inquisitor?” He couldn’t control the curtness of his tone or the snarl of his lips as he bit the words out at her.

“Adamant was a victory.” Josephine’s voice was soft. He watched the women exchange a glance and that only made him angrier.

“Then why doesn’t it feel like it?” he questioned, striding over to the table and pressing both hands into it. “We may have won the battle—at great loss, I might add—but we have still not defeated Corypheus.”

“Cull—” Trevelyan started.

“Hawke was my friend!” The words were more grating than he’d intended and she set her jaw. Her usually bright eyes darkened, the deeper greens swirling with the more vibrant greens as they quickly turned thunderous. “Inquisitor, I—”

“Josie, leave us.” She didn’t look at him, but instead focused on their ambassador who had been steadily inching toward the door. 

Cullen sucked in a breath as he realized he would be alone with the Inquisitor. He’d learned to respect her magic, but he still didn’t entirely trust it, and now, without lyrium… now he couldn’t stop her. 

Once the door clicked behind Josephine, she turned on him. “Tell me then, what would you have done? 

“Not leave her!” he shouted. The volume of his tone surprised him, but even more surprising was that Trevelyan shouted back.

“She wanted to be the one! We all would have died, but for Hawke!” The glass in the windows reverberated. A storm was building outside, one of her doing no doubt. “Should I have left Alistair? He offered you know. Or maybe you wanted me to stay? One less apostate on the loose.” 

“That’s unfair,” he spat, “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Life isn’t fair. I didn’t ask for this, yet here I am!” She lifted her left arm toward the ceiling, the green mark on her hand crackling to life at her fury. “At least you had a choice, _Commander_.” Her eyes were glowing as rain started falling on the windows, heavy drops splattering on the glass.

“Did she?”

“You read the report.”

“I wasn’t there!” He was shouting at the top of his lungs. It was cathartic, in a way, to release the outrage that had been growing inside him.

“Then stop second-guessing my decisions!”

He placed his hands back on the table in front of him and dropped his head. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I—I’m sorry, Inquisitor.” He took in several deep breaths before he continued, “A momentary lapse in judgment, it won’t happen again.”

“What is this really about, Cullen?”

“I…” He shook his head instead of responding. He’d succeeded in making Ariana hate him, but he hadn’t succeeded in making himself get over her. He knew from the beginning they’d never be able to be together, not like he wanted, but he had still hoped against all else that they could be. He’d never wanted anyone or anything so much in his life.

He slammed a fist into the table, the markers jumping at the sudden impact. He groaned as the other memories he had of making those markers jump surfaced. Maker’s breath, the memories of her were _everywhere_. He couldn’t escape her.

“I miss her, too.” He snapped his eyes up, wondering how she knew what he was thinking about. Concern had replaced the fury in her eyes. “I didn’t know her long, but she was a remarkable woman.”

Hawke. She was talking about Hawke. He hung his head again, ashamed that he’d let the thoughts of Ariana creep in when there was so much else to worry about. So many other problems to address.

She walked around the table and laid her hand on his arm. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Cullen sighed and stared down at the table in front of him. Maker, he missed her—he missed her with every fiber of his being—but he had to get himself under control. There was important work to be done. “The patrols tracked the remaining Red Templars to a location in northern Orlais. It may be Samson’s headquarters.”

“Well, that is something. Tell me what you know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _phiuthar_ \- (Gàidhlig) sister  
_mo ghràdh_ \- (Gàidhlig) my heart


	36. Chapter 36

“My lady, you have a visitor,” the servant announced as she opened the door. “He is in the front parlor.”

“Who is he?” Ariana asked.

“He did not leave a name, my lady,” the servant replied.

“Then what does he look like?”

The servant hesitated. “He requested that I not give that information.”

“Then he’ll be waiting for awhile. Come back with a name.” She shut the door in his face, flipping the deadbolt. She’d arrived in Kirkwall that morning, taking rooms at the Noble’s Rest, before she’d attempt to board a ship back to Orlais.

The weather had been rather foul as the late summer storms overtook the Free Marches. There were reports that the Waking Sea crossing had been more treacherous than usual. She’d considered rerouting through Southwatch and traveling via Ostwick, but she’d already been away for more than three weeks.

Sebastian oscillated between different emotions over the weeks, but thankfully an old friend of his and Hawke’s, an elven man with intricate tattoos and stark white hair, arrived to stay with him. Varric’s doing, no doubt, and Ariana knew she was leaving him in good hands. 

The elven man had asked her to hand deliver a letter to the Kirkwall Guard-Captain when she arrived and she’d done so before stopping at the inn. The woman had been grateful for the news and promised Ariana she'd set out at once for Starkhaven. Sebastian had friends who cared for him, something that was comforting to Ariana on her long trek back to Skyhold. At least he had others who loved him and could support him during this time when he needed it the most.

Her sister had sent no more than a couple emails while Ariana was in Starkhaven to update her on progress as she traveled around Orlais. Whatever she’d found there had much of the military being redirected to the Arbor Wilds. Ariana had also gotten a message from Josephine expressing a need for her to return to Skyhold immediately, for the good of the Inquisition. Thankfully, the elven man had arrived in Starkhaven the next day so she felt comfortable leaving Sebastian.

Now, if only the weather would cooperate so she could get back. 

Another knock on the door echoed through the room. She strode back over to the door and threw it open, expecting the same servant from earlier to be standing there. Instead, she found herself face to face with a blonde woman in Inquisition armor.

Her surprise must have been evident as the woman started, “Bann Trevelyan, I’m—”

“Lieutenant Karner, is it?” Ariana interrupted her, recognizing her from the trip to Redcliffe the previous year, and her place at Cullen’s side over the summer. This should be fun. 

“Yes, my lady, although it’s Captain now.”

“The servant said my visitor was a man.”

She briefly hesitated before continuing, “The commander is here as well… my lady.”

“Commander Cullen? Here? In Kirkwall?” The last message from her sister had indicated they were in Val Royeaux together dealing with a personnel issue. What was he doing in Kirkwall?

“He would like to see you. The message is urgent.”

“It must be if he came all this way to deliver it in person. Well, let’s go.” Ariana trailed behind the captain as she fought her surfacing emotions. She’d been fighting with them for weeks, for months, but now she couldn’t ignore them. She wanted to see him, but the last time had gone so poorly when he’d dismissed her from his office, that she didn’t know if she could face him. Especially not with his new lover there. That thought alone was enough to make her stomach roil.

Ariana attempted to steady her breath as Karner stood aside to let her enter the parlor. The room was dark, despite the afternoon hour, as the dark clouds that hovered over Kirkwall refused to part for the sun. When she saw him standing at a large window, overlooking the hotel courtyard, her heart flipped. A soft click of the door behind her, letting her know that they were alone.

“Kirkwall is different than when I left,” he observed as he continued to stare out the window.

“I’d imagine so.” She stood near the door, arms crossed. “Why are you here, Commander?”

At her words, he finally turned to look at her. He had deep circles under his eyes and his skin was paler than she remembered. She suspected that he wasn’t sleeping and her heart ached for him, but she held her ground. She herself had been in a waking nightmare since that day, his parting words still painful.

“You received Lady Montilyet’s message?” he asked.

“I did.”

“The prince is on his way to Skyhold to formally request your hand in marriage.”

“I suppose they’ve sent you to make sure I come back then?” He nodded. They stared at each other from a distance as an awkward silence descended over the room. When he didn't say anything, Ariana shook her head and turned toward the door, “Well, if that’s all, I’m ready to depart at your earliest convenience.”

“That’s not all,” he blurted out as she placed her hand on the doorknob. “How have you been?

“You can’t be serious.” She spun around to face him, an incredulous look spreading across her face. How in Thedas could he be asking about her like he cared after what happened? He hated her and Ariana deserved every ounce of that hatred.

Yet as she stared at him, he seemed earnest with his brows furrowed and his amber eyes peering at her in concern. “Of course, I'm serious. You look tired.” 

He moved toward her, stopping several paces away to peer more closely at her. His hands were balled into fists at his side as though he might reach for her if he didn't keep them occupied. Her stomach roiled at his closeness and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe.

“Go to the void,” she spat before spinning on her heels and stalking out of the parlor and back up to her room. She made it just in time to retch her lunch into the toilet. 

She couldn’t deny that she felt and likely looked awful, but the last thing she needed was her former lover pointing it out. A former lover whom she still wanted more than anyone, especially when he’d so summarily dismissed her from his life the last time she was in his presence. She didn’t know how she’d survive the days with him as they returned to Skyhold. Why did he have to be the one they'd sent to get her?

***

They finally secured passage on a ship bound for Jader a few days later. Few ships were willing to risk the Waking Sea passage right now, but the commander used his connections in Kirkwall to locate one. Thankfully, their time at sea would be only a few days at most. 

Ariana had been set up in a small cabin with Captain Karner. She knew that Karner was there to keep watch on her when Cullen couldn’t—or _wouldn’t_—but she suspected there was more to Karner’s accompaniment than solely to keep an eye on Ariana. Cullen had never struck her as an intentionally cruel person, but bringing her as a way to throw their relationship in Ariana’s face was very much in that vein. Watching them together, Ariana could see their comfort with one another. Every time he smiled, or rolled his eyes, or squeezed her arm, it cut straight to Ariana’s heart. She missed him. She missed him with every piece of her shattered heart.

Their second day, when the seas calmed, Ariana came above deck and saw then standing together. When Karner nudged Cullen with her shoulder, nausea overwhelmed her again and she barely made it to the railing in time. Karner rushed to her side, holding her hair back as she heaved. 

She couldn’t look at Cullen. Not with what she felt. Instead she disappeared back into the room below deck to await their arrival. When they’d docked, Cullen was there to help her disembark, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. She was ashamed of her jealousy, knowing that she had no claim on this man. That has been made painfully clear.

When they docked in Jader, the group made their way to a small inn on the outskirts of the city. After the night at sea, it was a relief to finally have a proper bath. She settled into it, reveling in finally feeling warm again. 

It seemed like no time at all before a knock sounded, followed by Karner’s voice calling through the front door, “Bann Trevelyan, may I come in?”

“Yes, it’s unlocked,” she called back, sinking deeper into the water. Since it was her private room, she hadn't bothered to close the door between the bedroom and the bedroom, but it didn't matter. She leaned her head back against the edge of the tub, as she waited to see what Karner wanted.

Karner entered and upon finding her in the bath, turned to face the opposite direction. “Pardon my intrusion, my lady, but I wanted to inform you I’ll be parting ways with you and the commander in the morning.”

Ariana sat straight up and water sloshed over the edges of the tub. “You can’t leave.”

“I’ve been ordered to meet up with forces en route to the Wilds. It will save me several days travel to do so from Jader.”

“Who did the order come from?”

“Commander Cullen. Who else?”

Ariana groaned. Her bath ruined, she stood and grabbed a towel hanging nearby. Drying off as she spoke, she asked, “Why is he sending you away?”

“He’s not ‘sending me away,’” Karner quickly replied. “I’m needed at the front.”

“Right.”

“Strategic assault is my area of expertise and the temple is a particularly challenging location.”

“So I’ll be traveling back to Skyhold alone with the commander?” She grabbed a robe on the back of door and wrapped it around herself.

“Bann, Commander Cullen is—”

“I don’t care what he is. I can’t travel alone with him.” Ariana approached the other woman.

Karner turned to look at her, intently holding Ariana’s gaze. “Why not?”

“If I’m being summoned by an Orlesian prince, traveling alone with an unmarried man is the worst thing I can do right now.” Ariana chose not to mention the fact that it was Cullen make the whole situation infinitely worse if and when Jean-Luc found out. “The Inquisition needs Orlais' support, we can’t risk it.” 

“Oh. I… see. I’ll speak with him and see if we can find a suitable alternative.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Before I leave, these came for you from Skyhold.” Karner handed a couple sealed letters over.

“Letters? Why didn’t they email me?”

“I don’t know,” she said before she turned to the door. “I’ll return once I’ve spoken with the commander.”

Karner left the room and Ariana settled down into the chair in front of the fireplace, angling her damp hair toward the fire to help it dry as she read the documents. 

The first was from the ambassador. The note reiterated what Cullen had told her several days before, that Jean-Luc was finally on his way to formally request her hand in marriage and she was required back at Skyhold at once. The second from her sister said much the same. Why they'd even bothered to put it in writing, Ariana didn't understand. She knew what was required of her.

_Mother would have been so proud_, she thought as she rose from her seat to drop the letters into the fire. Her mother had attempted to mold her into the perfect heiress, grooming her for greater things than merely being a bann’s wife.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. With a glance back at the blackening letters, she walked over and flung the door open. Her mouth dropped open in surprise at finding Cullen standing there. He wasn’t wearing his uniform, his white undershirt partially untucked and his hair was tousled, like he’d come straight from bed. The jealousy flared within her at the thought, followed by the annoyance that the man couldn't even make himself decent before he showed up.

His eyes dropped down to her chest. She lifted a hand to clutch at the opening of her robe, realizing for the first time how revealing it was. At her movement, his eyes darted back to her face and he appeared to be making a concerted effort to keep them there. 

“What do you want?” she snapped.

***

Ariana clutched the robe at her chest and the sleeves slipped back to reveal black ink bands that wrapped around her wrists. She'd gotten tattoos. Ones that looked remarkably like shackles. He tried not to stare at them, given their proximity to another part of her body she'd already caught him looking at him, but Maker's breath, _why_ was she wearing so little clothing?

Cullen sucked in a deep breath and tried to focus on why he was here. He knew she hated him for what he’d done. She made that clear at every turn since he decided to take this ill-fated trip to retrieve her. It had been his intention to make her hate him, so that maybe he could finally have some bloody peace... so maybe he could move on with his life and as she had moved on with hers.

“Well?” She lifted her eyebrows and narrowed her eyes.

_To fix things_, he wanted to tell her, _To make things right between us_. Though he suspected saying that out loud wouldn’t go well. Instead, he told her, “To talk.”

She glared at him. “So talk.”

“Do you want the entire inn to hear?” He gestured toward the hall. It was empty, but it may not be for long.

She stared at him, her nostrils flaring and eyes flashing. “Fine.” 

She stepped back and held the door open for him. He strode in and looked around the room, trying to look anywhere but at _her_. Through the open door bathroom he could see the still full bathtub. That explained the lack of clothing, and why her her hair was damp, curling into slight waves as it dried. He was tempted to reach up and wrap a strand around his finger, but Cullen knew that wouldn’t go well either. Instead, he picked up a book that was sitting on a small table near the fireplace.

Ariana added a blanket on top of her robe, wrapping it around herself before she invited him to sit down. He took the chair in front of the fireplace while she perched on a small footstool next to the wall. She quietly sat watching him while he mindlessly flipped through the book to calm his nerves. It had been a mistake to come here. He should have left it to Karner. Maker, he should have left it to Cassandra. Coming here had been selfish, he knew that, but he'd missed her.

Finally, he snapped it shut and really looked at her. She didn’t look well. She was thinner and looked far more tired than he’d ever seen her before. He’d tried to ask when he first saw her in Kirkwall, but he had misfired in his attempt. She’d barely spoken to him since, instead choosing to keep her distance. He should have been pleased about it, but instead... No. The truth was: they'd barely spoken in months and he couldn't stand the divide that had opened between them. 

“You got tattoos.” It was the first thing he could think to say that wasn't 'I miss you'.

She didn't move as she warily responded, “I did.”

“Can I see them?”

She held his gaze for a long moment before untangling one arm from the blanket. It slipped down her shoulder, pulling the neckline of her robe with it. His eyes darted over to the smooth expanse of the skin at her neck. He couldn't have stopped himself if he wanted to. 

_Focus_, he admonished himself, forcing his eyes to the bare forearm she’d presented to him. Three thick parallel bands wrapped around her wrist and forearm and more thick, dashed lines jutted out perpendicular from the third band. Those dashed lines ran up her forearm, ending just shy of her elbow. He’d seen those tattoos before. “Aren’t those—”

“Rylen’s?” she interrupted as she rotated her arm so he could see all the way around it. There were at least six, maybe eight. “Not quite. Similar, though. I used the same artist.” 

“In Starkhaven?”

“Yes.” Ariana studied the dark lines on her inner arm.

He had so many questions, he didn't know which one to ask. Why did she get the tattoos? Why that design? Why Starkhaven? “Why?” 

“It’s time I stop letting my past own me.” She looked up at him, her pale grey eyes intense in the flickering light of the fire. Cullen’s heart skipped a beat as he held her gaze. It was a simple statement, one that he should take at face value, but deep inside, he couldn’t help but hope that she meant more by it. Against all reason, he hoped. 

“I've wondered…” Ariana broke eye contact, looking toward the floor as she swallowed. “Will you miss her?” 

Miss her? He watched the way she rubbed her toes into the floor as he wondered what she was getting at. “Miss who?”

“Never mind.” She pulled the blanket back around her, holding it tighter as she looked away from him, still not meeting his eyes.

He studied her profile as he mused over her question. It had been a question about the future, not the past. “Do you mean Karner?”

“You seem to be quite… close with her.” She was chewing on her lower lip as she looked up at him and there was something in her eyes, for a split second, before she wiped her face to that practiced neutral that frustrated him. _I'd not bet against her in a game of diamondback,_ Rylen had said. Cullen understood what the man meant. She covered whatever she was thinking well. Too well.

“Of course I am,” Cullen shrugged. “She grew up on a farm near mine. She and Rosalie were inseparable as children.” He smiled at the memory of his youngest sister as a child. Back before he left. When Ariana didn’t react, Cullen remembered Karner’s words that Justinian day that now felt like a lifetime ago. He noticed the discomfort in her body language. The question. It all made sense. “You think I’m sleeping with her?”

“I know what you look like when you come from bed,” she grumbled, a flush creeping up her neck.

“I assure you I'm not. You’re more her type than I am.” 

She looked at him, confusion evident across her features. Maker, she was so beautiful. How had he forgotten that in their time apart? Her mouth parted in realization and her face turned a light shade of red. “Oh.”

Cullen could only think about the fact that she’d asked about who she thought was another woman. The hope that had flickered to life inside him ignited into a fully formed flame. “Why are you asking about Karner?”

“I don’t know. She told me she was leaving in the morning and…” She stared into the distance.

“She will depart at first light, that will not change.”

“Commander, I’m sure Josephine explained the nuances of Orlesian engagements to you, so you know that I cannot arrive in Skyhold after traveling alone with an unmarried man, much less one…” she trailed off with a sigh. He knew what she wasn’t saying. Much less one she’d previously had an affair with. She sighed again, “You have every reason to despise me, but please don’t ruin this for me.”

He felt as though a bucket of cold water had been tossed on the hope that had been burning inside of him. “I don’t… That’s not…” His hand found its way to the back of his neck as he let out a loud sigh of his own. 

She stared down at her hands. “It's all I have left.”

Her words snapped him back to reality. Nothing had changed and she would still be marrying her Orlesian. He set his jaw. “Karner is needed at the front. I would not have ordered her there otherwise.”

She frowned as she looked up at him again, seemingly unhappy with his response. What was she unhappy about? First, she doesn’t want Karner to leave and then she’s upset when he explained? “Wouldn’t want to spend too much time alone with me, would you?” she snarked.

“That’s unfair.” He frowned back at her. Maybe that had been what he’d wanted her to think originally... he’d wanted to push her away, wanted her to hate him, but no matter how many months passed, he couldn’t stop the way he felt about her. Even if she was to be with another. Her jaw remained set as she looked away from him. “All right. We’ll stop at inns. You and I will keep separate rooms. Josephine will meet us near Skyhold and we’ll separately return from there.”

“Who else knows we’re traveling together?”

“Well, Karner and, I assume, Josephine and Leliana.”

She let out a loud sigh and stood. The blanket she still clutched around her shoulder dragged behind her feet as she paced in front of the fireplace. “Can I ask you something?”

He wanted to shout, _Whatever it is, it is for you_, but he didn’t. Instead, he nodded, not trusting himself to speak for fear he seem too eager.

“Why did you go to Kirkwall?”

_For you_. “To ensure your safe return to Skyhold.”

She stopped in front of him. “But why _you_?”

He held his breath, running through the options of what he could say without revealing too much. “I didn’t trust anyone else.”

“Not even Cassandra? She would have—”

“Not even Cassandra!” He leapt up, reaching for her. He gripped her upper arms as he stepped in closer to her. “Do you really not know? I had to see you for myself. I had to know that you were... you were all right after what I’d done.”

She looked so beautiful, hair untamed around her as the blanket and robe slid off her shoulder to expose the smoothness of her neck. Her eyes were wide as she watched him. She tilted her face slightly up towards him and he dipped his head, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Like he always had been. 

The movement of her lips slightly parting snapped him out of his daze. No matter how much he wanted her, they couldn’t do this. Not right here. Not right now. Not ever again. 

“Oh, for the love of—” He jerked away from her, grappling with his self-control as he ran his hands through his hair. He paced away from her, toward the door, leaving her bewildered in the middle of the room. He had to get himself under control or out of here. Preferably both. He reached the door and pulled it open. “We’ll depart after breakfast. Good night, Bann.” 


	37. Chapter 37

The leak in the ceiling steadily dripped into the bucket as Ariana paced the small entrance hall. The drip, drip, drip of each drop was beginning to drive her to insanity. The meeting time had long since passed and Josephine still had not appeared.

“Call her again,” she instructed. Cullen sighed and reached over the front desk of the old inn to lift the handset and dial. Again, there was nothing on the other side except dead air. “Is there anyone else you can try?”

“Bann, I’ve tried every number that I have. Comms are down.”

“That is not acceptable!”

“We don’t have a choice,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair. He’d stopped styling it in the days they’d been on the road and it curled every which way. She’d forgotten what his hair looked like when they’d first met. He cleared his throat. “Are you all right?”

Ariana averted her eyes to the old clock on the wall behind the desk. The clock told her they would not be making it to Skyhold tonight, even if Josephine showed. “No, we don’t have a choice, do we?”

“I’ll find the innkeeper.” Cullen disappeared into one of the side rooms. Tension remained high between them on their travels. It didn’t help that he’d remained distant, despite the admission in Jader that he had needed to see her. She could scarcely believe that he still felt something for her, as much as she wanted it to be true.

The old man ambled in with Cullen on his heels and pulled out his handwritten ledger. He slowly flipped through the pages as though he were confirming something, before reaching behind him and grabbing a key. “You got the last one,” the man told them, holding out the single key.

“We need two,” Cullen flatly responded.

“No can do. Inn’s full up tonight, grimy weather and all that. We got some sleeping areas in the main room near the fireplace.”

Cullen reached for the key with a sigh. “We’ll take the room. Thank you.”

“Enjoy your stay!” The old man beamed at them.

Cullen slung his pack over his shoulder and picked up Ariana’s bag. “Let’s go check it out.”

“Maybe you can sleep on the floor?” Ariana asked. She followed as he trudged up the stairs to the top floor and down the hall to where the room was tucked in a back corner. 

“Maybe,” Cullen grimaced, turning the key in the lock and pushing the door open. 

The room was small and sparsely furnished with no more than a double bed pushed into one corner and a small nightstand next to it. There was a shower at least, even though it was only a tiny wet bath. Through the lone window, the rain continued to pour outside as the sky darkened into twilight.

Cullen set Ariana’s bag on the bed. “This isn’t going to work.”

“There’s space here…” Ariana ventured, gesturing to the floor next to the bed.

“No. I’ll sleep in the main room.”

“You can’t sleep in there.”

“Yes, I can.”

“You’re the commander of the Inquisition’s armies! You can’t sleep in the main room like a commoner,” she insisted.

“I am a commoner, Bann Trevelyan. As you well know.”

The vehemence in his voice surprised her into silence. After a lengthy pause where he pointedly didn't look at her, she tried again. “But the Inquisition—”

“I take your point,” he interrupted, “I’ll sleep in the car, but I am _not_ sleeping here.” 

She folded her arms and glared at him. “Have it your way.”

“I intend to, but first I’m showering.” He tossed his pack at the foot of the bed and dug around in it. “Go get dinner or something.”

Ariana couldn’t move, even if she’d wanted to. He’d unbuttoned the top button of his uniform and Ariana felt as though she were frozen to the spot. Cullen cast a raised eyebrow in her direction as he reached for the next button. 

“I’m not hungry.”

He sighed, “Then a drink?”

“I could do that.”

Turn around and walk away, she told herself, but she couldn’t. Not when he was so close to her. He’d been so distant for so long, as though they were a hundred miles apart, but here… here she could reach out for him and touch him if she wanted to. 

Who was she trying to convince? _Of course_ she wanted to touch him, but that couldn’t happen. 

She fled from the room, pulling the door closed behind her with a loud crash. She didn’t go downstairs though and instead paced the short hallway, her mind filled with thoughts of him and of what she’d been about to do…

Ariana had no idea where they stood anymore. She’d let Jean-Luc’s threats dictate her life and everything had spun wildly out of control. Being so close to Cullen again, she knew one thing to be true. She would never forgive herself if she didn’t at least try to fight for the man she... loved.

The man she loved. She froze in her pacing as she finally allowed herself to acknowledge the truth that had been buried deep within her, hidden in the recesses of her damaged heart. She loved him.

She didn’t know if he still loved her, but it was worth finding out if there was any hope left for them. She had to know, one way or the other.

She turned and headed for the room at the end of the hall. The door opened and a freshly-showered Cullen hesitated at the sight of her. “Bann, are you—”

Ariana closed the distance between them and pushed him back into the room. Her mouth was on his, lips pressed to lips, tongues tangling in a ravenous kiss. Cullen stiffened as she pressed her body against his and as she ran one hand through the curls of his damp hair. Her other hand slid down his chest, down to his hip to pull his body closer to hers.

He grabbed her upper arms and pushed her away, breaking the kiss. He stared into her eyes, his breath heavy. “We can’t,” he murmured. “This isn’t right. Not when—”

“How can you say that?” she interrupted. His eyes dropped to her mouth as she spoke, “We are the rightest thing I’ve ever known.”

With a groan, he captured her mouth again as his hands slid up to tangle in her hair. What had begun as a gentle kiss grew demanding as his tongue slipped inside her mouth. Their tongues swirled around one another, unable to taste enough, to feel enough, to get _enough_ to be satisfied. 

“Ariana…” His hands were all over her, roughly exploring her curves in ways she thought she’d only ever experience again in her fantasies. The door slammed closed behind her and she felt the cool wood against her back, the skirt of her dress up around her hips as he slid his thigh between her legs. She ground her hips against him as his kisses burned down her neck.

She threw her head back as his mouth made its way down over her collarbone, the light scrapes of his teeth sending electric shockwaves through her. Ariana shuddered as his hands caressed her breasts and he rolled her peaked nipples between his fingers. The feel of the fabric rubbing against them, it was at once too much and not enough and yet so much more than she could have dreamed.

This living, breathing man in front of her was better than any fantasy.

Ariana grabbed at her dress and pulled it over her head. Cullen’s eyes drank her in, darkening with lust. He lifted her up against the door, his already stiff erection nestling between her legs. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he rocked against her several times.

The barrier of his jeans between them was too much. She reached her hand down between them to rub his erection through the fabric before she started to work on the button. Cullen took several steps away from the wall and tumbled into the bed with her. “Not yet.”

He made his way down her body, exploring each inch of her skin at a torturous pace. Ariana bit back a moan as he passed over the most sensitive parts of her body.

“Cullen, please.” Her voice was ragged with need. She wasn’t above begging, she’d never wanted anything as much as she wanted him to consume her right then. His lips curved upward as he lowered his mouth over one hardened nipple, running his teeth over it before lavishing her with gentle kisses.

One hand lifted to play with the other breast, kneading and rolling the pebbled peak in his fingers. Her hands clutch the back of his head as she arched her lower back to rub against the thigh he’d nudged between her legs. 

“Andraste...” She groaned.

She felt his cock twitch against her at the groan. He released the nipple with a slight pop and looked up at her. His eyes were molten with desire, she rubbed against his thigh again.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, dropping his head to the other breast. His mouth, his hands, the way he massaged, caressed, fondled… his teeth grazed her nipple. A spasm of pleasure shot through her. She was so close. 

He slid a finger through her folds and his mouth found hers again. “I love how wet you always are for me.”

He curled his finger inside her as he deepened his kiss, his tongue pressing between her lips. She could barely think as she focused on the delicious spot his finger hit. When he pulled his finger out and slid off the bed, she cried out at the loss and reached for him. 

“I’m here,” he told her as he kneeled between her legs, lifting her thighs up over his shoulders and settling between them. He pushed two fingers inside of her as he lowered his mouth to her clit, flicking his tongue against it over and over.

“Cullen,” she groaned as he pumped his fingers inside of her, curling them to press against that spot as he worked her. She tried to press her hips closer to him, but he held her down with his other hand.

“Look at me.” He briefly paused, lifting his head, his fingers continuing to pump inside of her, waiting until she opened her eyes. “Watch me while I make you come.”

When she did, he lowered his mouth back down to her clit and sucked. The erotic sight of his amber eyes staring into hers as his face was buried between her legs pushed her over the edge at second time. She kept her eyes locked on him as she came, watching him lick her wetness from her folds, each gentle lap of his tongue prolonging her pleasure.

She lay breathless on the bed as he rose from between her legs, his erection evident in his jeans as he looked down on her. As he pulled his shirt over his head, she forced herself up on her forearms, legs still spread wide in front of him.

“Do you want this?” His voice was strained and his hands hesitated at his zipper as he looked down at her. His eyes burned into hers and his chest was falling and rising with each shuddering breath.

“More than anything.” She pushed herself up to a seat and reached for his zipper. She looked up into his eyes as she pulled the zipper down, freeing his erection. 

She wrapped her hand around him and looked up at him. “May I?”

Cullen nodded and she leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on the tip. He groaned as her lips touched his cock, involuntarily bucking toward her mouth. “Sorry.” 

A bead of liquid pearled there and her tongue flicked across the head of his cock, finally tasting him again. Ariana bit back another groan at that taste combined with the softness of him under her tongue. She tightened her hand at the base and ran her tongue along the underside before wrapping her lips around him and sliding her mouth down his cock towards her hand.

She moved her mouth up and down his length deliberately several times, tightening her grip with each pass. She couldn't get enough of the way he tasted as she ran her tongue around him.

“Maker’s breath!” he gritted out, “I’m not going to... to last if you keep doing that.”

“Good,” she mumbled around his cock, feeling him pulse inside her mouth.

She felt his hands in her hair, tugging her off him. “Turn around,” he instructed her as he kicked off his jeans.

She flipped over, onto her knees, her forearms pressing into the softness of the bed. As he rubbed his fingers at her slit, spreading her wetness, she laid her upper body out against the mattress. She felt his hands on her hips as he pressed the tip of his cock against her, slowly pushing inside her.

“You feel so good,” he rasped, pressing himself in deeper, inch by inch. When he was fully sheathed inside of her, he bent over her, wrapping his arms around her. “Maker’s breath, you’re incredible.”

They both stilled. Ariana reveled in the way he felt inside of her and wrapped around her. After several slow breaths, he rasped, “Come here.” He lifted her up until her back was pressed against his chest. He smoothed her hair away from her neck and kissed her as his hands gripped her breasts. 

She lifted one arm behind her, wrapping it around the back of his neck and turned to meet his lips with hera. He kissed her deeply as he began to move, sliding ever so slowly in and out of her, continuing to run his hands over her body with each thrust.

“So many nights I dreamt of what it would be like to touch you again,” he told her as his hands rubbed across her chest, her hips, and down further still. “To taste you again. To watch you come undone again. This is more than I could imagine.”

Her head fell back onto his shoulder as he continued his caresses. Every time he was buried fully inside her, Ariana felt her inner muscles clenching around him, drawing him deeper. He ran one hand down her abdomen, dipping his fingers into her dripping arousal where their bodies met before circling her clit. 

The stimulation was too much for her, she felt the world slow as she reached again for that pinpoint of pleasure.

When Cullen nipped at her shoulder, it pushed her over the edge and the shockwaves of her orgasm overwhelmed her body. He held her as she came and with a few more frenzied thrusts, she felt him throbbing inside her as he reached his own release. 

As the aftershocks sparked inside her, Cullen gently pulled her down onto the bed with him. Her body clenched and she felt his cock pulse inside her as his body shuddered at the sensation. Cullen pressed his lips to the back of her head as he wrapped his arms tighter around her, one around her waist and the other her chest, pulling her flush against him. 

With the warmth of his body enveloping her, she thought that it might be the happiest she had ever been. For the first time in months, she felt safe, wrapped in the arms of the man she loved.

***

The soft light of early morning streamed in through the small window of their room when she woke still in his arms. The strong arms around her were her safety, her refuge, her home. 

His face was peaceful as he slept, breathing evenly and deeply. She relished the loose golden waves that framed his face, the locks wild and free after their lovemaking. She memorized the softened lines of his face before he would wake and the burdens of command would re-etch the lines of worry. She adored the slight quirk of his eyebrows when he was amused, the way he wrinkled his nose when he was irritated, and the way the cleft of his strong chin seemed to be made perfectly for her thumb to caress.

She followed the line of his scar that cut through his stubble, disappearing inside his mouth. He’d never told her how he’d gotten it, nor had she asked, but she loved it all the same. Loved him all the same, all hard lines and imperfections for the world outside, but gentle and loving in this side that only she knew.

She propped herself up on her elbow to admire the lines of his chest. She discovered the new, still red scars from the battle at Adamant. The marks on his body showing her exactly how much she had missed in the preceding months. She was tracing a particularly jagged one on his hip with her fingers when he caught her hand in his, pulling it to his lips for a soft kiss.

“Good morning.” She pressed herself forward and met his lips with her own, his hand rising to frame her face. She gazed into his eyes, still foggy as he chased the sleep from them.

“Yes, it is,” he told her as he pulled her mouth back towards his own to give her a long, slow, sensual kiss. “What were you thinking about?”

With a smile, she leaned back on her elbow and propped her chin up with her hand. “About how beautiful you are.” 

His brow furrowed and his face flushed. He started to object, but she stopped him, placing a finger on his lips.

A phone began ringing from somewhere on the floor. They both shot out of bed as they fumbled through discarded clothing to find the ringing phone. It stopped before they could reach it, but a different phone began ringing. This one from Ariana’s purse.

Josephine’s picture was plastered across the screen as Ariana swiped to answer the call. “Hello?”

“Good morning, Ba—Ariana!”

Ariana held Cullen’s gaze as she spoke. “Josephine. Where in the void are you?” 

“Oh! About twenty minutes away. Are you ready?”

“You were supposed to be here yesterday. Of course, I’m ready.”

She let out a sigh. “Yesterday was… trying. The prince arrived unexpectedly and… well, it is a long story.”

“Jean-Luc is at Skyhold?” Ariana felt her stomach drop. “Already?” 

As she said the other man’s name, Cullen’s face darkened. He bent down to grab his jeans. Ariana watched as he slid them up over his hips and fastened them. 

“Yes, so if you could please be ready… Oh! I must try the commander again. See you soon.”

Cullen’s phone immediately began ringing. He fished it out of his pocket. “Ambassador.”

Ariana couldn’t hear anything Josie said, but Cullen’s face grew darker with each second that passed. “Understood,” he finally said and hung up.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He pulled a white t-shirt over his head. “Nothing.”

“Cullen…” Ariana reached for him, but he captured her wrist in his hand and held it at a distance.

“I can’t believe...” He shook his head as he lowered her arm and released her. “Last night never should have happened.” 

“What?” Ariana felt like she’d been slapped by the abruptness of his words. “How can you say that?” 

“Get dressed. I’ll be downstairs.” He picked up his pack and headed for the door.

“Cullen, wait!” 

“You have fifteen minutes.” He pulled the door open and walked through without a backwards glance.

Ariana couldn’t move. She didn’t know what happened. No more than ten minutes ago she’d been euphoric, basking in the afterglow of having him back in her life. And now… now she felt as though her heart had been ripped out of her chest and stomped on for good measure. Tears threatened at the back of her eyes as nausea overwhelmed her. She rushed toward the bathroom. 

It was twenty before she made her way downstairs. Josephine and Cullen were standing in the small entryway speaking in hushed tones, falling silent as she approached. Josephine gave her a radiant smile. “You’re ready, good. We should go. The prince would very much like to see you.”

Ariana watched Cullen’s face, hoping to find some hint there that he felt for her what he once had and what she felt for him, but his face was entirely devoid of any emotion at all.

“Shall we?” Josephine brightly continued.

Ariana allowed herself to be led outside and into the backseat of a waiting SUV. Josephine climbed in next to her and the driver shut the door. When the driver hopped in the front seat and locked the doors, Ariana asked, “What about Cull—Commander Cullen?”

“He’ll follow behind us.”

Ariana watched out the back window as they pulled out of the inn. Cullen was putting luggage in the back of his vehicle, finally looking up in the moment before she lost sight of him, a forlorn look spread over his handsome face.

“Well, luckily we have but a few hours drive. Oh! I must tell you about yesterday. It all started when one of the satellite dishes became misaligned. How that happened I still have no idea, but…” Josephine began telling Ariana all about the mishaps of the previous day. As the communications systems were down, they hadn’t received notification that Jean-Luc would be arriving several days early. Josephine was preparing to leave to meet Ariana when his helicopter was spotted in the distance, forcing an abrupt change of plans. 

Their drive to Skyhold continued on this way for almost two hours, with Josephine chattering away and Ariana pretending to listen. “Now that your engagement is imminent, do you think it too soon to begin planning the wedding? I do hope he’ll agree to having it at Skyhold, although Halamshiral could be quite nice.”

Ariana stared out the window at the mountains beside them. They were headed downhill into the valley toward Skyhold. To her future. What a future that would be as the wife of a prince. Heir apparent of Orlais. Her mother would be so proud.

“I suppose Satinalia would be too soon for a proper ceremony, but perhaps a winter wedding? It could be lovely to have it after First Day, although… that would make the travel rather difficult, at least for the guests. Goodness, we can’t have them driving all over the Frostbacks in winter!”

Why was Josephine talking about this? It didn’t even matter. Not right now. Not when her world was collapsing around her. Ariana felt numb as the road rolled by beneath them.

“Have you considered your attendants? Of course, you’ll have your sister, but are there other friends that you would like to stand with you? Oh! That reminds me. I will need a full accounting of your friends and acquaintances so we can get to work on the guest list.”

It was so cold in the Frostbacks. She’d forgotten that in her time away. She didn’t even have a wrap. Hadn’t it been summer when she’d left? But now she was shaking. She was so cold.

“You must speak with Monsieur Tailler at once about a trousseau. I’d imagine he’ll need to get started. Will you wear white or something less… white? Perhaps a lovely cream. Although for a winter wedding, white may still be the most appropriate. Yes, yes, that would do nicely.”

The next bend. The next bend would take her to Skyhold. To her future. She felt light-headed. Or maybe she was going to throw up. Or both. Whatever was happening, she had to get out. She had to.

“And the cake! We absolutely must—”

She couldn’t do this.

“Stop the car!” she cried. The driver shifted to the side of the road. Ariana had the door open and her feet on the ground even before he’d pulled to a complete stop.

“Bann Trevelyan!”

She was running. Somewhere. Somewhere she would be safe. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t. Her face was wet with tears as she sunk down to the ground, the sharp edges of rocks at her knees reminding her that at least she was still feeling something even though she felt nothing else at all beyond the turbulence that was unleashing itself inside of her. It was going to consume her. She couldn’t do this.

A hand touched her shoulder and she whirled, scrambling away on her hands and backside. Josephine stepped back in alarm. “Ariana, are you well?”

She didn’t know what to do. It was wrong, it was all wrong. She couldn’t do it. Maker, gods above, whoever was listening, she couldn’t do this. “I… I can’t… breathe…” 

Breathe. Take a breath. She sucked in air, forcing it into her aching lungs. It was biting cold, chilling her from the inside out. The shaking, she couldn’t stop the shaking. 

A sensation, full of distress, resonated deep inside her. As it rose within her, she released a feral scream towards the sky.

And she still couldn't breathe. She tried to gulp the air, but she couldn't get enough.

“What happened?” Him. His voice. He was here. Another breath. Force another one in. 

“I don’t know, she—”

“Cullen...” she choked, the pain intermixed with the tears as the shaking wracked her body. She was so cold, she didn’t know how it had gotten so cold.

He kneeled down in front of her. “I’m here.”

“I can’t do it.” 

“Yes, you can. Take a breath for me.” He wrapped her hands in his, intertwining their fingers. “You can. I know you can.” 

“No,” she sobbed as she looked up into his amber eyes. Worry. They were full of worry. For her? “You don’t understand.”

“I’m trying,” he told her as his eyes dropped to their hands. He rubbed circles on her hands near each of her thumbs. His calm demeanor, his soothing voice, it was a balm to the turmoil inside of her.

A deep breath. “I can’t do it.”

“You can. In, then back out.” His thumbs moved up to her forearm where he firmly pressed again, massaging the spot afterward as she took a deep breath. And then another. A long inhale. A loud exhale.

“I can’t. I can’t marry him,” she insisted before dropping her voice to a whisper, “I love you.”

His eyes shot up to hers in surprise. Seconds ticked by as they stared at one another.

“What did you say?” he finally breathed.

Ariana drew in another ragged, but deep, breath. With more conviction, she repeated, “I love you.”

Neither of them moved as they continued to stare at one another. She could hear the wind in the grass and the song of the late birds of summer. She felt the sun warming her still-chilled skin and the safety of Cullen’s fingers circling her forearms.

And then, from somewhere in the distance, she heard, “Yes, Leli? It's me. We have a situation.”


	38. Chapter 38

He paced behind the SUV as Josephine made sure Ariana was safely ensconced in the backseat. 

Maker, when he’d turned the corner and seen the stopped vehicle, backseat empty and the driver anxiously standing behind it flagging him down, he’d panicked. Different scenarios flashed through his mind of all the horrible things that could have happened to them.

“What happened?” Cullen shouted as soon as his car door was open.

“She asked to stop the car, ser, and then ran down the mountain,” the driver told him. 

“Which way?” The man gestured toward the valley. Cullen had taken off running in that direction before the man’s arm was even fully extended. When a scream echoed off the mountains a moment later, he’d never felt more terrified in his life of what he might find.

“Well, this is most certainly unexpected.” Josephine’s voice sliced through his thoughts. Cullen turned to see her tapping at the screen of her phone. She hit a button and held the phone out between them.

“Yes?” The spymaster’s accented voice crackled to life.

“You’re on speakerphone,” Josephine told her.

“With our commander, I assume?”

“That’s right,” Cullen spoke up. 

“For now, we’ll return to Skyhold and then—” Josephine let out a sigh—“then we shall devise a plan to take care of the rest.”

“She needs to rest when she arrives. She is in no state to see… anyone.” Cullen couldn’t bring himself to say her intended. Although the man wasn’t. Not yet. There had been talk of it, but Ariana had not committed herself to anyone. 

Not that it mattered because she loved him. She loved him. It didn’t quite seem real, but she’s said it. Twice. He had not misunderstood this time.

“Agreed,” Leliana chimed in from the phone. “How is she?” 

“Not well.”

“Then somewhere near the front gates.”

“What about Cassandra’s quarters?” Cullen asked.

“Too far.” 

“If she cuts through my office?” 

Josephine gave him a sharp look. “That would be—”

“Perfect,” Leliana finished. “We’ll have her stay in your room.”

“That is not a good idea,” Josephine said. 

Cullen had to agree. “I’ll already draw the ire of… enough people. I’d rather not exacerbate it.”

Leliana’s sigh was loud even through the phone’s speaker. “You'll have to trust me. She’ll stay in your room. I’ll check with Cassandra and… hmm, let’s see. Harding is here, so I’ll have her assist. Cullen, you return to Skyhold now and we’ll meet you in the war room after she’s settled.”

That conversation felt like ages ago, although in reality it couldn’t have been more than half an hour. Fifteen minutes back to Skyhold and less than fifteen minutes he’d spent pacing the war room, alone with his thoughts.

Her admission had shocked him into silence. It had been six months since he’d confessed his love for her and he’d given up hope that she would ever offer hers in return. He’d grappled with that realization this morning—Maker, was that only this morning?—when she’d sounded excited at the prospect of her soon-to-be-fiancé awaiting her at Skyhold. He’d thought he’d made a terrible mistake falling back into bed with her.

But it hadn’t been. She loved him.

The war room door creaked open behind him and he recognized Trevelyan’s soft footfall. He turned to address her, “Inquisitor.”

Her face was as stiff as stone with no trace of emotion on it. She crossed her arms and tilted her head, studying him, before she said, “Explain to me how my commander carries on with my sister beneath my very nose.”

“I… I don’t know, it just happened.” 

“Just happened?” She lifted a white eyebrow as her eyes bore into him. “How long has this been ‘just happening’?”

Cullen uncomfortably cleared his throat. “Since Firstfall.” 

She pressed her lips together. “You’ve been sleeping with my sister since last year and neither of you, I don’t know, thought to mention it?”

“It hasn’t been—it wasn’t…” he sighed, “Supposed to be like this.”

“Like _what_? Affecting your duties? Affecting our alliances? Our reputation?” She raised her voice. The sky outside the large stained glass windows darkened in response. “Do you know what damage will be done—has already been done?—because you’ve been so focused on _fucking_ my baby sister that you disregarded your duties to this Inquisition?” 

“Inquisitor, I—”

“I am speaking, Commander,” she thundered. 

Cullen could only stare at her. The once mild-mannered Herald of Andraste had become a force to be reckoned with over the past year and a half. He shamefully admitted that he’d barely even noticed the transition, wrapped in himself and his own problems as he’d been.

“_Dirth’ala ma_,” she exhaled with a shake of her head. “Orlais will declare war. Maybe not immediately, but once Corypheus is a memory, they will make our lives miserable.”

He closed his eyes, horrified by the reality of where this had led them. As if he had any control over who his heart chose to love. Thought if he’d had a choice, would he have chosen any differently?

No.

When he reopened his eyes, Trevelyan was staring at him with her intense gaze. “Do you love her?”

“Yes.” The word held no hesitation. It was the truth of his heart. He couldn’t not love her. Maker knows he’d tried. 

“Truly? I am not in the mood to be trifled with.” 

“I have loved her since…” he sighed, “Since Haven. As much as I wanted to deny it.”

Her face softened at that. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because I loved her” was all that he knew to say. He didn’t know why. It had made sense at the time, to take whatever she was willing to give him, but he’d known from the start that it was never going to be enough. He had to have all of her or nothing and all he wanted was her, at the cost of everything else. Ariana was worth everything to him. 

“Inquisitor, I’ll submit my resignation. Rylen will be—”

“No, you won’t.”

“Inquisitor?” 

“Cullen,” she approached him. He fought the urge to step away, to flinch back, but there was no anger as she stepped closer to him. He trusted her, he did. She’d been a righteous leader, both just and kind in the decisions she’d made and the path she’d led them down. He would follow her anywhere. “You could have handled it better, but you are the commander of these armies and you will continue to lead them in whatever comes.”

“In fact, we can use this to our advantage,” Leliana said as she and Josephine entered the war room. “A passionate love affair between the Inquisitor’s sister and the Inquisition’s commander? The nobility will eat it right up.” She snapped her fingers to make her point. “Especially the Orlesians. They do love a good intrigue.” 

“Yes, well, aside from one particular Orlesian that is here to propose,” Josephine worried.

“At least Ferelden and Orlais won’t be at war.”

“Yet.”

Leliana waved her hand dismissively.

“Someone is going to have to—” Cullen started, but a knock sounded on the door and he abruptly cut off. 

The entire group turned as Varric entered. The dwarven man looked around the room with appreciation and let out a low whistle.

“Master Tethras, thank you for joining us,” Josephine welcomed him.

“I gotta admit, the invitation to the war council intrigued me. What can I do for you ladies and gentleman?”

Leliana raised her eyebrows at Josephine. Josephine sighed, but told him, “We have… a proposition of sorts for you.”

“One of secrets, passion, and ultimately love,” Leliana continued. “It could be your next bestseller.” 

Varric’s eyes slid to Trevelyan. She subtly shook her head in response. “I’m gonna need more than that, Nightingale,” he said.

Leliana held out a piece of paper and a pen. “Sign the non-disclosure first.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, signing it with a flourish without even reading. “Now spill.”

A calculating smile appeared on Leliana’s face. “Our lovely Bann Trevelyan had a secret affair and will not be marrying the prince.”

“Did you say ‘secret affair’? Oh, that is good. Who with?”

Cullen felt his face burn as the three women in the room turned to look at him.

“No!” Varric exclaimed. “Oh, come on, Curly. I knew you had a thing for her, but not even a hint? I thought we were friends!”

Cullen sighed, not knowing what to say.

“So, here’s how this is going to go…” Josephine took over the conversation and they began to hammer out the details of how to proceed.

With a plan firmly in place, Cullen took the back exit from the hold. The one that went through kitchens down toward the stables. He didn’t want too many eyes to see where he was headed, although, they would know soon enough. He slowly climbed the stairs to the ramparts as he thought about what would happen in the coming days and weeks as their plan was put into place.

Cassandra sat in his office, jumping to her feet at his appearance. “Commander!” 

“Seeker.” He gave Cassandra a weary smile. “How is she?” 

“Asleep. Harding is up with her now.”

“Can I…” he ventured, not knowing how to finish the sentence. Cassandra shrugged, but a smile played at her lips.

He climbed to his loft equally as slowly as he’d taken the stairs, one careful rung at a time. When the scout spotted him, she leapt to her feet. “Commander!” 

“Harding. Is she…” 

Harding cast a quick glance toward the bed. “Sleeping, ser. Has been since she got here.”

“I’ll take it from here if you’d… like to take a break.”

Harding gave him an uncomfortable look. “We’re not supposed to leave her…” Cassandra let out a disgusted noise from the office below. “Well, I guess this one time wouldn’t hurt.” Harding gave a nervous giggle and offered an awkward smile before she scrambled down the ladder.

Cullen pulled off his shoes and climbed into bed beside Ariana. She nestled her head into his chest and he wrapped his arm around her. Whatever was to come, he would do it with her by his side.

***

An overwhelming feeling of security was the first thing she noticed when she woke. She was in his arms, warm and protected. The outside world was a problem for the future. Right here, right now, it was only her and the man she loved.

Love. Such a small word, but it meant everything. 

Ariana shifted so she could see his face, his golden eyes open as they watched her. She traced her fingers along his jaw, down one side and back up the other. They didn’t speak as they gazed at one another in the fading light of late afternoon. 

What more needed to be said? He’d promised they would figure something out and the fact that he was lying next to her was proof enough that he’d kept his word.

“Your sister would like to speak to you,” he quietly told her as he ran a hand through her hair. The motion was comforting, soothing. She wanted to stay here in this moment and forget the outside, forget everything but the two of them, but actions had consequences.

She nodded.

Cullen pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead before he climbed out of the bed and padded barefoot down to his office. She listened to the quiet murmurs filtering through the floorboards until someone else began to climb the ladder to the loft. The bright, white hair of her sister appeared. “Can we talk?”

“Of course,” she croaked, her voice hoarse from overuse that morning. 

A door below opened and shut again. Ariana knew she and her sister were completely alone. 

Ariana sat up as Evelyn made her way over to the bed. “No, don’t get up,” her sister said as she settled on the edge. The two sisters stared at one another for several moments, before Evelyn spoke, “He didn’t tell me everything.” 

Ariana mutely nodded and reached for a glass of water on the bedside table. 

“He’s a good man, Ari. You almost destroyed him. I’d never seen him so… broken. After Halamshiral, he changed. I thought it was me.”

“Oh, Eve, I am so sorry…” Her voice cracked and the tears that had welled in her eyes began to fall. 

“I can’t believe how blind I was. He begged to be replaced, you know. He even begged for lyrium to put him out of his misery.” 

“I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t. That’s the problem. There are things at stake that you don’t realize.”

The tears ran freely. She put the glass back down on the bedside table before she said, “I know what’s at stake.”

“Do you really?”

“Maybe not with Corypheus, but I know that—” she cut off and pressed her lips together as she tried to get her tears under control. “Jean-Luc threatened me. I know that he will come after us. And come after the Inquisition.”

Evelyn had stilled as Ariana spoke. “What did he say?”

“That he will have me and he’s not afraid to wage war on anyone who gets in his way.”

“We’ll see about that.” Evelyn took several deep breaths, before reaching for Ariana’s hand. “I don’t want you talking to him without me. And Ariana… I wish you would tell me these things.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wasn’t supposed to… feel this way.”

Her sister gave her a gentle smile. “Hearts are not always rational.” 

Ariana sniffed, “I don’t deserve him.”

“He does deserve more than what you gave him, but you have a second chance.”

“I don’t know why after everything I’ve done. After all I’ve already been given.”

“There is not a finite amount of love in the world.” Evelyn wrapped her arm around her sister as they sat together. Evelyn’s voice was tinged with hurt when she finally asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” Ariana miserably told her. “I was lonely and he was… willing. And it was good… _really_ good so we kept doing it and then…” she sighed, “Somewhere along the way we ended up where we are.”

“Why didn’t you want anyone to know?”

“Because what good could come of that? We couldn’t be together, not really.”

“But why?” Evelyn pressed.

“Because of my duty to this fucking title,” Ariana snapped, “And because the last time I fell in love he was murdered and my world fell apart. I couldn’t survive that again.”

Evelyn stiffened beside her. “Murdered? Who?”

“Lachlan Vael.” 

“Lachlan? You never told me about that.”

“I couldn’t find you! Then when I finally did, you had been through so much… How could I burden you with my tragedy, too?”

“I’m your sister.”

“And I am yours, yet sometimes it feels like we are strangers. Your friends know you better than I do. While you’re out saving the world, I’m waiting here like some spoiled noble.”

“Is that really what you think?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m not good for much else.”

“Oh, Ari. That is not true. When you first arrived at Haven, we were so different. You were no longer the little sister I remembered, who played with dolls and ran through the mud alongside me. No, you’d become this powerful woman, full of sharp edges.” Ariana tightened her arm around her sister’s waist at the rawness of her words. “So much had changed. I wanted to trust you, but I was afraid.”

“I was, too.”

“Can we start over?”

Ariana choked back a sob of relief. “I would like that.”

The two sisters talked for hours as the sun set and night fell over Skyhold. Ariana told her sister everything that had happened from the day she’d been taken. Bits and pieces had already been shared, but Ariana gave her the uncensored version of what life had become at Southwatch. Of her young relationship with Lachlan Vael and the chaos that ensued in the aftermath of his murder. Of her darkest days. Of her recovery in Val Royeaux and of the young man named Jean-Luc Bechalet.

Evelyn told her of her days in the Circle. Of the order and the structure. Of the pain that came with growth. Of the peace and the healing she’d found and of the hard lessons she’d learned along the way.

There was still so much to discuss, so much history for them to catch up on, but it was an encouraging start. Ariana had bared her soul, her truest self, to her sister and her sister had not judged her for it.

Finally, after almost a year and a half, finding her sister had started down the path toward becoming everything she dreamed it could be. Evelyn paused before she climbed down the ladder, turning back toward Ariana. “Shall I send him up?”

“Please.”

Several minutes passed after the office door opened until it closed and she heard him coming up the ladder. Ariana was on her feet as soon as she saw him. He looked as though he’d been put through the void. “Maker, Cullen, what’s happened?”

“What? Nothing, I...” he sighed, “She was in here for so long, I started to worry…”

Ariana wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him into her embrace. “We were talking, that’s all.”

His breathing was steady and slow. “Did she tell you about what they have planned?”

“Have planned? What do you mean?”

He let out another loud sigh. “All of Thedas will know about us soon enough. Varric is writing the story now. They want the first part published this weekend.”

She pulled away from him to look at his face. “For the love of Andraste, are they insane? Are they trying to—Who’s idea was that anyway?”

Cullen gazed at her a moment and then pulled her back toward him, wrapping her in his arms. “Apparently the Orlesians will eat it up, but… you will have to talk to Bechalet tomorrow.”

“Great,” Ariana groaned.

“What he doesn’t already know, he’s accurately surmised.”

“You’ve spoken to him?”

She felt Cullen’s jaw tighten. “I have.”

“What happened? What did he say?”

Cullen pulled back again and framed her face with his hands. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll figure this out together, you know that, right?”

***

She leaned her face against the cool tile of the shower, willing the waves of nausea to pass. She’d hadn’t eaten at all yesterday and now she was paying for it. Nerves and an empty stomach were a terrible combination.

“Ariana?” Cullen sounded worried. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” she lied, taking another deep breath as she focused on trying not to throw up.

“Let me know if you need anything?”

“Okay.”

She turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around her body. She towel dried her hair before letting it hang damp around her shoulders as she opened the door to the bedroom. 

Cullen was sitting on the edge of the bed and a tray of food was sitting on the nightstand. “There’s toast, cereal, oatmeal, coffee, orange juice, some fruit…” he offered, his forehead creased in concern. “I wasn’t sure what you like... aside from the coffee, of course.”

“Thank you.” She smiled through the queasiness. “I’ll take the toast.”

She sat down on the bed next to him. He handed her a piece that she nibbled on while he watched her in concern.

“I’m nervous about… you know,” she told him.

“I know.”

“Commander, do you have a moment?” Josephine called up. He looked at Ariana in question, but she shooed him toward the ladder. “This is relevant to you as well, Bann, if you’re still up there.”

“I’ll be down shortly.”

Cullen started to climb down, but paused before handing up a small bag. “You might need this,” he told her before disappearing down to his office.

She opened the bag and saw a simple dress and some toiletries. Whether or not Josephine had thought of it or someone else, she was grateful for the fresh change of clothes. Ariana listened to their murmured conversation as she put on the dress and pulled her still damp hair back into a low bun.

Finally feeling human again, she climbed down the ladder. Josephine gave her a tight smile. “The commander tells me that you’ll be speaking with the prince this morning?” 

“That is the plan.”

“Very good. There is a ball scheduled for this Friday. It was intended to celebrate your… well, before…” Josephine stalled as she couldn’t quite find the right words. “Regardless, could we perhaps announce your engagement instead?”

“We’re not engaged,” Cullen said.

“A minor detail that can be rectified.”

Ariana’s head was spinning, this was all happening so fast. She sank down into the nearest chair.

“Ariana—” Cullen was at her side.

“It’s fine, I’m fine, it’s only that it’s so… sudden. Do whatever needs to be done, Josie.” 

“Good, now that that’s settled, I will keep your appointments for this week. I’ll send a schedule. Until later!”

Cullen was still kneeling at her side. “Are you certain it’s all right?”

Josephine impatiently tapped at her tablet. “We’re already late for the war council, Commander.”

“I’m aware, Ambassador. Give me a moment.”

Josephine let out a displeased sigh, but gave them some space. After she’d left, Cullen took one of Ariana’s hands in his. “We don’t have to do this. I will stay with you, whatever comes.”

“I know.” 

“Say the word and I’ll put a stop to all of it.”

Ariana lifted her other hand to his cheek. “You are more than I could have believed possible.”

Maker bless him, the man blushed as he leaned into her hand. “Well, I should… go.”

“I’ll see you later?” 

“Always.” He squeezed her hand before standing. Ariana watched him walk out the door toward the main keep.

Once he was out of sight, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and texted her sister, asking when she would be available to meet. Evelyn immediately responded, letting Ariana know she could be late to her next meeting and to have Jean-Luc meet them both in her quarters.

Ariana sighed as she tapped out the message to Jean-Luc.

> Me: Are you available to meet?  
_JL_: Yes. Where?  
_Me_: Inquisitor’s room  
_JL_: Now?  
_Me_: In 15  


She didn’t receive a response as she made her way over the stone bridge and into the keep. Instead of heading upstairs as she had so often, she entered the main hall, hoping that Jean-Luc wasn’t there. He wasn’t, but a sense of anticipation hovered over the room as everyone watched her progress toward her sister’s room. 

The door opened as soon as she knocked and the servant waved her upstairs. Evelyn was standing on the balcony, looking out across Skyhold. She turned to focus her bright eyes on her sister. “How much time do we have?”

“A few minutes.”

“You do not have to do this yourself. You are as much a part of the Inquisition as the rest of us and as such, under the Inquisition’s protection.”

“Thank you.” Ariana gave her a sad smile. “I’m sorry to have dragged you into this.”

“You’re my sister.” Evelyn reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I would do anything for you. We all would.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

They heard a knock on the door. Ariana took in a deep breath and Evelyn gave her hand one more squeeze. The two sisters waited inside the balcony doors as Jean-Luc crested the top of the staircase.

His light brown eyes immediately focused on Ariana. All she saw in them was the coldness from Halamshiral. A fleeting thought had her wondering how she’d ever thought them kind. He flicked his eyes over to Evelyn and his upper lip raised in a sneer. Ariana felt her sister’s magic flare in response. “Afraid to be alone with me, little dove?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Then how does ‘whore’ sound?”

“Prince Bechalet,” Evelyn interrupted. The sky outside darkened ominously behind her. “Bann Trevelyan is under the protection of the Inquisition and you will treat her with respect.”

“Respect?” He let out a dark laugh. “After what she has done?”

Evelyn lifted her eyebrows. “And what precisely has she done?”

“She reneged on our agreement.”

“As I understand it, you coerced her into agreeing to marry you under threat. I wouldn’t call that an agreement, I would call that blackmail.”

His face reddened. “She was mine first.”

“She is not a possession.”

Jean-Luc looked at Ariana. She couldn’t believe the hostility in his eyes, the anger that seeped from every pore of his body. The whites of his eyes were showing in his anger, giving him a feral look. “I will have her or no one will.”

Ariana flinched away as he took several steps toward her. Lightning struck the balcony behind her and Jean-Luc froze mid-step.

“Take not another step or I shall call down wrath upon you.” Evelyn’s voice was unnatural in its calmness and her words felt heavy and old.

Ariana stumbled back several steps, as much away from Jean-Luc as from her sister. This was not the gentle Evelyn that Ariana grew up with and that Ariana had glimpsed the afternoon before. This woman in front of her was otherworldly. 

_Call down wrath_, she’d said. Like a vengeful spirit.

Evelyn’s back was ramrod straight, her chin lifted, as lightning flashed between the dark clouds in the sky above them. Her hair was stark against the darkness and the mark on her hand angrily flashed like her unnaturally green eyes that stared at Jean-Luc without blinking.

After several tense moments, Jean-Luc broke his eye contact with Evelyn and took a step back. The lightning stopped and clouds brightened to a deep grey, a shade lighter than the inky black they’d been mere moments before.

“Do you understand me?” Evelyn asked.

“This is not over.” Jean-Luc took another step back toward the staircase. “I will destroy you.”

“I think not.” Evelyn gave him a serene smile. The peacefulness of it was disturbing in the aftermath of the storm she’d called up then quelled. All sans staff. 

Ariana shuddered at the realization of how powerful her sister truly was. 

“Gaspard owes me everything,” Evelyn continued. Jean-Luc’s lips twitched and Evelyn lifted her eyebrows in challenge, daring him to contradict her. When he didn’t, she gave him another of the same, disturbingly serene smile. “Long may he reign.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Dirth’ala ma_ \- (Elven) May you learn (lit. A lesson to you)
> 
> Elven from the lovely [Project Elvhen](https://archiveofourown.org/series/229061) by [FenxShiral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FenxShiral/pseuds/FenxShiral).


	39. Chapter 39

When Firesday came, Skyhold was alive in anticipation of that night’s festivities. Cullen still couldn’t believe how quickly the tables had turned in the past week. Each morning, when he woke up with Ariana still in his arms, he thanked the Maker that it wasn’t some trick of the Fade; that the woman he loved truly was a part of his life.

With all the activity that day, it was late afternoon, hours before the ball, when Leliana finally forced him to cancel the rest of his meetings. “You can’t be late to your own party, Commander,” she’d told him, gesturing for one of the servants to bring his formal uniform. “Don’t make me send Vivienne in.”

Cullen indulged in a long shower, taking care to shave and style his hair. It wasn’t because of the threat to send in Vivienne, but rather because he wanted to at least look the part of the future husband of Bann Trevelyan. He wanted her to be _proud_ to have him standing at her side. 

She was everything to him. He would do anything to be the man worthy of her love. 

Despite his years in Kirkwall, he’d never grown accustomed to the nobility and never really bothered to learn about them. He knew enough so as to avoid putting his foot in his mouth in most situations, but he’d come to realize exactly how little he knew when Josephine sat him down for a crash course in ‘how to be a noble.’ It was more than what fork to use and what honorifics went with which titles. The lessons made Cullen cringe at the memory of calling Ariana ‘Lady Trevelyan’ when he first met her. It was a mistake he’d never made again, nor did he intend to. 

The intricacies of tradition within the different countries was enough to make his head spin. Different bows, different dances, different patterns of greeting, different slights of the hand or direction of the feet… He feared he would never truly fit into her world, but he would what he could to learn. He had to try. He would do anything for her.

A servant appeared at the door, requesting that he follow to the Inquisitor’s quarters. 

Thousands of candles were being lit around the great hall as he passed through, most hoisted onto the ancient candelabras that hung from the ceilings and walls. It gave the room a romantic feel, softer than the usual harshness of the more modern lighting they'd installed. 

Once in the Inquisitor’s private area, he made his way up the stairs, pausing to knock on the door to her bedroom.

“Enter!” A voice called.

When he reached the top of the next set of stairs, he almost tripped over his feet as he caught sight of Ariana. She was radiant in a black gown, her arms exposed for the first time that he could remember. Aside from in private, he’d never seen her that way. Her dark tattoos were stark against her tanned skin, running up her bare arms. She wasn't hiding them any longer.

She looked magnificent. 

Her face lit up when it landed on him and a smile spread across her face. His own stress about the evening and about their future melted away at seeing her. As long as he was with her, it didn’t matter. He pulled her into his arms to kiss her, one hand making its way to the back of her neck.

“Don’t touch her hair!” A woman shrieked from across the room. “Or her makeup!”

“Forgive me.” He dropped the hand to rest on her upper arm. 

Ariana took in a frustrated breath and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him in for a kiss anyway. Her lips were soft, warm, and comfortable in the way he’d always remembered, and always dreamt about. He could kiss her for all of eternity and it wouldn’t be enough.

“Bann Trevelyan!”

She pulled away from him and turned to glare at the woman. “I will kiss my fiancé at my own engagement party any time I like.” 

“Yes, do that,” he told her, pulling her back in, peppering kisses at her lips.

“Thank the Maker you’re here,” she told him, leading him out to the balcony. “If I have to listen to one more piece of gossip, I’ll... I don’t know.” Ariana gazed out at the party below with a sigh, “Are you all right with… with all this?”

Lights had been strung in the courtyard and the party had already begun out there. Cullen looked out, following her gaze. “Of course. Is there a reason you think I wouldn’t be?”

“We never… talked about it. About what came next.” She lifted her left hand and tilted her hand back and forth, watching the way the clear stone on her ring finger caught the light. “We’re not even engaged.”

The yellow gold metal and the large square stone were not at all what he’d envisioned to give to the woman who held his heart. The look on Ariana's face that morning when Josephine had given it to her told him it wasn't her preference either. Cullen resolved to speak with Dagna privately about a new design as soon as he could.

Cullen wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Whatever comes, I am yours.”

She leaned her head against his. “You might change your mind when you find out what’s expected from any spouse of mine.”

“I am certain I won’t.” He ran his fingers along the bare skin at her arms, feeling the softness of it. She trembled under his touch. Cullen turned to kiss her cheek, but she tried to shrug out of his arms.

“You should hate me for what I’ve done,” she told him, reusing the words he’d uttered in the depths of his lyrium withdrawal.

“I could never.”

“After everything I’ve done to you?

“Ariana, my heart could not find a way to unlove you. No matter how much I tried.” 

She shook her head.

“Ari? Cullen?” They turned to see Evelyn standing in the balcony door. “It’s time.”

“We’ll talk later. About everything,” he told her, giving her cheek a gentle caress before intertwining his fingers with hers. 

Together they walked toward the great hall and into the celebration. The crowd erupted at their entrance and they were immediately swept from person to person. Some offered congratulations at their upcoming nuptials, while others wanted details of how their great love affair had taken place.

Only the first part of Varric’s serialized story about their relationship had been published, but it seemed that the people of Thedas were ravenous for more. Cullen hadn’t read any of it. He didn’t want to know how the man would be portraying what had happened between them. Cullen had lived it, he didn’t need to see it again in black and white.

When they finally had a moment to breathe, Cullen pulled her into his arms and simply held her. As she nestled her face into his neck, she asked, “How are you?”

“As long as you’re by my side, I’ll be all right.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” He lifted his hand to cup her cheek. “I would do all of it again for you.”

She shook her head. “I don’t deserve you.”

He leaned his forehead against hers as Josephine rushed up to the two of them. “You must dance or no one will!” she agonized.

“Cullen doesn’t—” Ariana started, but he interrupted her.

“For you, I’ll try.” He bowed as he held out his hand, “May I have this dance?”

The band struck up a slow tune and Ariana smiled as he pulled her into his arms.

“I have wanted to do this for far longer than I should admit,” he told her, leading her around the dance floor.

“We’ve done this before.”

“I remember. I also remember all the times I did not, no matter how much I wanted to.” He counted the steps, waiting for the exact one he needed. When it came, he spun her around, catching her and easily falling back into step.

“You’ve been practicing,” she teased.

“Josephine didn’t want me to embarrass you. Or her.”

She smiled. The music shifted to a slower song and he wrapped both of his arms around her waist, pulling her against him, as they danced in time with the music.

***

As he crossed the stone bridge to the keep the next morning, he took his first sip of coffee. His phone buzzed in his other hand and he lifted it to see a photo of Karner in battle uniform on his screen. “Karner! You’re up early for a Satinaday,” he playfully answered, happy to have received a call from her. Although she’d been in the Arbor Wilds for some days, their most recent check-in call had been cancelled thanks to the chaos of Cullen’s personal life.

Last night had been a dream. More than a dream, really, and he was going to see Dagna immediately following this war council. The ring that Josephine provided would suffice for now, but he wanted to properly propose to the woman he loved. He wanted her to know that he was serious about marrying her, about spending the rest of his life with her. Not only because it made sense for the honor of the Inquisition, but because it made sense for _them_.

“Cullen, are you listening to me?” Karner’s voice sliced through his thoughts.

“Sorry, Karner. You cut out for a moment.” He inwardly cursed himself as he tried to focus on what his old friend was saying through the choppy connection.

“So you’re engaged. Saw it in the news this morning. Congrats, I think.”

“What do you mean you ‘think’?” 

“You, my friend, are a lying liar who lies.” Karner let out a long sigh. “But I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“I am. I love her.”

“I know,” Karner quietly said. “I’ve known since the first time I saw you with her. But Cullen—”

“Are you really going to lecture me?”

She let out a low laugh. “Rosey’s been calling all morning. She’s freaking out. They all saw the announcement and read the article by Tethras. You should call them.” 

“I’m on my way to the war council.”

“Don’t you think they deserve to hear it from you? They’re your family.” 

“They don’t act like it.” 

“Oh, Cullen. Do you hear yourself right now?”

Cullen took in a deep breath, trying to stave off his annoyance. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. Are they…?”

“Shocked. I’m shocked and I even saw it happening… but if you’re happy, that’ll have to do.” There was some background noise that made its way through the speaker and Cullen heard Karner talking to someone before she told him, “Sorry, I’ve gotta run. I’ll have updates on the situation for you later.” 

“Thanks for the call, Karner.” 

Cullen hung up and dropped the phone into his pocket as he walked into Josephine’s office. She leapt up from her desk and walked toward him at a rapid pace. “Commander! This is good news.”

“What is?”

“Varric’s first installment has already received several million reads! And that’s the online version. Add to that the roughly half a million print copies of the—”

“Maker’s breath, millions?”

“Oh yes! Leli was correct, Orlais can’t get enough.”

Cullen rubbed a hand over his face as they walked through to the war room. Trevelyan was already inside talking to the arcane advisor. They didn’t turn, but as soon as Cullen rounded the table to his usual spot, both women fixed their intense eyes on him. 

“How are you holding up?” Trevelyan asked.

He let out a small huff. “The amount of interest in my personal life makes me uncomfortable.”

“You thefted her from the Prince of Orlais, did you not? Tis bound to make people curious.”

“I… what?” He stared at the woman. Morrigan was her name. Leliana told him she’d been one of Solona’s companions, but Cullen didn’t remember her from the single time they’d met. Best that he didn’t try.

“Lady Morrigan is correct,” Josephine told him, “The people thought she’d be marrying Prince Bechalet.”

“I’m not accustomed to this level of scrutiny,” he said.

Trevelyan scoffed, “She’s nobility. What did you think would happen?”

“I didn’t,” he said.

“Clearly,” she said.

“Inquisitor—”

She stopped him with a lifted finger. “Is this going to be a distraction?”

“No.”

“Ensure that it doesn’t become one. The soldiers need you at your best.”

Cullen pressed his lips together as Leliana breezed through the door. “I just spoke to Harding. She arrived at the temple yesterday and already something is happening.” 

“Report,” Trevelyan told her.

Leliana filled them in on the report and they spent the next several hours working on a strategy. It wasn’t quite where it needed to be, but they couldn’t spend all day in the war room.

As soon as he was free of the meeting, Cullen headed straight for the Undercroft. 

“Good morning, Dagna,” he greeted the dwarven woman as he made his way down the stairs. 

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “It’s you! You’re here. I mean, of course you are, everyone is somewhere, but can I just say, that story… Wow! I can’t wait to read what happens next.” At Cullen’s grimace, Dagna continued, “I mean, I know you’re living it, but it’s so romantic. Was it really love at first sight? I can’t imagine what that might feel like.” Dagna sighed again, a dreamy look on her face. “Well, anyway, what brings you down here?” 

“Could I get your help with something?”

Dagna's eyes lit up. “Does it have to do with Bann Trevelyan?”

“It does. Could you help me with a ring?” 

“Yes!” she enthused. Her eyes danced and he could tell her mind was already whirring with ideas. “This is great. Do you have any ideas for what you want it to look like? Metal? Stone? I make a lot of rings, but I guess you don’t really need it imbued with magical properties, so let’s start with the basics...” She chattered away as she led him over to her drafting table and started going through the options. By the time he was finished, his head was spinning. He’d had no concept of how much work went into choosing a ring.

When he got back to his office, he heard the shower running upstairs. With Ariana busy, it was as good a time as any to get this phone call out of the way. He’d never admit it to her, but Karner had shamed him into making it. 

He sat down at his desk and pulled up the contact on his phone. His thumb hovered over the tiny circle of a phone handset as he stared at the picture of his siblings. It was from the one time he’d visited them at South Reach. It had been almost six years now since he’d last seen them. Since before Anders blew up the chantry and chaos rained down on Kirkwall.

They’d all been so young... His niece and nephews still children. He loved his family, but there was a reason he didn’t speak with them often and saw them even less.

He pressed his thumb to the screen and lifted the phone to his ear as it rang.

A woman’s voice answered, “Hello?” 

“Mia?” A prolonged pause stretched through the line. Cullen cleared his throat. “It’s me. Cullen.”

“I know.”

“It’s been… awhile.”

Another pause. “That it has.” 

“Well, how are you?”

“Fine.”

“And Dex and the kids?”

“They’re all fine. The boys have been asking after you.”

“Tell them I say hello. I’ve missed them. And how’s the farm?”

“It’s fine…” She let out a loud breath. “But you didn’t call to shoot the breeze about the farm.”

“No, I didn’t. The way we left things…” He sighed, “I’m sorry I haven’t called sooner.”

A pause. “Saw you in the paper couple months back, when you were out there in Orlais,” Mia told him, “We’re proud of you, you know. Even Branson.”

Cullen held back the scoff at the mention of his younger brother being _proud_ of him and they descended into another awkward silence. “So…” Cullen hesitated at the sound of shuffling on the other end of the line.

“Cullen Stanton Rutherford! I can’t even!” By the volume of the shriek, it was clear Rosalie had taken over the phone. “You’ve been dating! And it’s serious! And you didn’t even tell us! We had to read what the dwarf wrote like everyone else!”

“Rosey, don’t call him that,” he interrupted.

“That’s all you have to say! You’re getting married and we haven’t even met her and all you have to say is—” There was a scuffle on the other end of the phone and he heard her shouting from further away, “Hey! I wasn’t done with him! Give me that back!”

A breathless Mia was on the line once again. “Maker give me strength, that girl. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“No, I should have told you all, but it—”

“Secret, right? I read that, in Mister Tethras’s article.”

“Yeah, there was that, but I—”

“Will you come visit? And bring her? We’d like to meet the woman who… well, we’d like to meet her.”

“I... yes, I would like that,” he admitted.

“Really?” 

“Really. It’s been too long. And… I want you to meet her. She’s…” Cullen trailed off, so many different words swelling up inside of him. “Everything.”

Cullen heard Mia’s breath catch on the other end of the line. “I’m so happy for you, Cullen. All we ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

“Thank you.” Even though she couldn’t see him, he smiled, before reality wiped it off his face. “But I don’t know when we will be able to come, with the war…”

“Well, don’t be a stranger. Call again sometime,” she told him.

“I will,” he promised.

“Bye now.”

“Bye, Mia.” Cullen pushed the button on the screen to disconnect the call and set the phone down on his desk. It had been less painful than he’d expected, but Karner had been right. They should have heard it from him first.

He heard Ariana’s footsteps above as she padded around the room. There were probably reports in his inbox he needed to read, but that could be a problem for a future time. He climbed the ladder, and when he reached the top saw Ariana sitting on the edge of the bed wrapped in a towel. 

He couldn’t help but smile at seeing her, here, comfortable in his room. Their room. It had been theirs since the first night she’d stayed there. “Hi.”

She watched as he approached, tilting her face up toward his. When he leaned down to kiss her, she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, drawing him deeper into the kiss. She started to lean back against the bed, pulling him with her. 

He resisted, breaking the kiss and untangling her hands from his neck. He sat down on the bed next to her and wrapped one of her hands in his.

Ariana frowned, staring down at their clasped hands. Cullen lifted their hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand. “What is it?”

Her brow furrowed and she bit her lower lip. “Do you not want me?”

Cullen stared at her. How could she say that after everything they’d been through? “What?” 

“We haven’t… Not since last week.”

“Ariana, a lot has happened, I didn’t want to push you if—”

She tugged on an edge of her towel, pulling it free and letting it fall open. “Please…” 

Cullen tangled one hand in her still damp hair and lifted the other to cup one of her now-exposed breasts. It was fuller than he remembered, but then everything about her now was _more_. She was soft, and curved, and perfectly shaped to fit his body. 

He eased her back onto the bed and softly brushed his lips against hers before capturing her mouth more fully with his.

Her hands roamed across his body, on his chest, his arms, around his back, each brush of her fingers tantalizing. But it wasn’t nearly enough. He needed to feel her skin against his, to feel every piece of her.

She helped him lift his shirt over his head, their lips breaking apart long enough to allow it space to pass, before he was on top of her, her body soft under his own. She was full of gentle, happy sighs as his lips trailed down to her neck, to taste the delicate skin there before he spread kisses across her chest.

Her hands ran down his back, her touch awakening the fire within him that threatened to consume him every time he was with her. He didn’t know if he would ever have enough of her.

“Cullen,” she sighed as his mouth found its way to one of her hardened nipples. She dropped her head back, arching her back, offering herself to him. He explored her breasts, listening to the way her breath caught in her chest and the soft moans.

And he reveled in the way her legs fell open in welcome as he made his way further down her body, spreading kisses across her belly, across her inner thighs. He relished the way her arousal glistened between her thighs and the way she smelled of ripened fruit dipped in honey. He could, and he would, taste her all night long.

He ran his fingers along her lower lips, watching the way she shuddered in anticipation with each pass, watching the way her pussy clenched and pulsed at his teasing. Her voice was desperate as she begged, “Please…” 

Cullen lowered his head between her legs and tasted her. She bucked her hips toward his mouth, wanting more, needing more. He stroked his tongue, lapping at her wetness, encouraged by the increasing volume of the sounds she was making. He gently ran his teeth over her clit, making her shudder, before flicking his tongue back and forth. “Maker, Cullen, yes, keep—” 

He sucked on the sensitive nub as he slid two fingers inside her, feeling her body pulse and contract around him. 

“Oh, yes,” she moaned as her fingers found their way to clutch his head. He continued to pleasure her, using fingers and tongue in harmony to push her toward the edge. But as he felt her body starting to furl in on itself, he stopped, again spreading kisses along her body as he worked his way back up.

“Cullen…” His name came out half strangled, like a plea, and she arched her hips against him for relief. Her hands were dipping into his trousers, fumbling for the front toward the zipper. He allowed her to help him push the trousers down over his hips, moving away from her only to finish removing them entirely. 

When he’d rejoined her on the bed, settling between her legs, he slowly… slowly… pressed inside of her. The feel of her around him always took his breath away. It was the most exquisite sensation. The feeling of being surrounded by her, wrapped up in her, buried in her…

She rolled her hips toward his. He captured one hand and pulled it up over her head before doing the same with the other. He intertwined their fingers and pressed his forehead to hers as he caught his breath. Her grey eyes contained a howling wind, wild and untamed, with need and desire and passion raging inside of them.

Their bodies were pressed together and he could feel every piece of her. He could feel the rhythm of her heart pounding in her chest. He could feel the way she sucked in breath after breath in an attempt to match his calm. He could feel the words that he’d tried to bury, tried to erase, tried to pretend didn’t matter, didn’t exist. The words she’d tried to deny. 

In that moment, he felt all of her and she was everything.

“I love you.”

And with those simple words, he began to move. Slowly, so that he could listen to the hitch in her breath when he fully sheathed himself inside her; so that he could feel each convulsion of her body around him; so he could see the way her eyes darkened, deluged with the passion of the moment.

He released her hands, lowering to brush his lips at that sensitive place on her neck and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding his body flush against her, pulling him under. He immersed himself in her storm, breathing the calm air in between.

“I love you,” she breathed as her body started to stiffen. 

He took her face in his hands and kissed her, pouring every piece of his soul into her, holding tight to the moment they flew together in the stillness while gale force winds raged around them.

***

The heaviness of her breath was the first thing he noticed. That and the way she smelled of the ocean after the storm. He nuzzled the side of her neck where his face was buried and she rewarded him with a happy sigh.

“Do you think we’re dead?” 

Cullen chuckled as he rolled onto his back. “Wouldn’t be the worst way to go.”

Ariana tucked herself into his side, one arm wrapped around his waist and her head on his shoulder. They lay together in the quiet silence of the afterglow. Dust particles danced in the late afternoon sun that streamed through the skylight. He had to remind himself that this was real. That as much as he’d wished, hoped, and prayed that she truly loved him.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he ran his hand down her back, pulling her tighter against him, marveling in the way his entire world fit so neatly into his arms.

She tilted her face up to look at him. “Who were you talking to earlier?”

“Mmm? Oh, that was my family.” 

“In Honnleath?” 

“No, they’re in South Reach now. They have some farmland not far from the city.”

“You’ve never really talked about them.” 

“I haven’t?”

“Maybe a mention, but nothing more.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t really sure what to say to that. He ran his hand through her hair as they silently laid together.

“Tell me about them?” she prompted after a while.

“Well, there’s Mia. She’s the oldest. She was married young, before the Blight, and Lillian was born before I shipped out. They’ve had… three more since, all boys. The youngest, Rosalie, also has… Is it three? Yes, that’s right. Three boys of her own.”

“A lot of boys.”

He chuckled, “It’s from the Rutherford side. My father had eight brothers. Branson also has a son—a teenager—but he’s adopted.”

“You have a brother?” Ariana smiled.

“I do…” Cullen hesitated. He didn’t know why. This was the woman who knew everything, his darkest secrets, and yet he hesitated here. He sighed, “He’s younger than me by a few years and we’ve not always gotten along.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Cullen gave her a small smile and ran his hand up through her hair. “And your parents?”

Cullen let out another long sigh. “Blight.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. That’s the way things are.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as he absentmindedly stroked his fingers through her hair. After awhile, she asked, “Talk to me?” 

He let the silence continue, formulating the words before he spoke, “I was always different from my siblings. They never wanted anything bigger. They settled down and started families and I suppose they’re happy with that.”

“But not you. What did you want?” 

“To serve. It’s all I ever wanted…” He shifted, tilting her chin up to his face. “Until I met you.”

She rested her chin on his chest. “And what is it that you want now?” 

“You. As long as you’re by my side, I’ll take whatever comes. I mean that.” 

Ariana sighed and stared at him for several moments, before pushing herself up to a seat. She bit her lower lip and a frown appeared between her eyebrows. Panic welled up inside of him. This felt too familiar, too much like when she’d left him. “What’s wrong?” 

“We’re going to have to talk about this sooner or later so…” Cullen sat up next to her and searched her eyes for some indication of where this conversation was going, praying that she wasn’t going to say that it wouldn’t work. Not after everything they’d been through. Not after what they’d shared. “I am a noble, which means that should we marry, you will be too.” 

The initial relief was quickly replaced by concern as the words sank in. “What do you mean ‘should we marry’?”

She gave him a gentle smile. “You haven’t asked and if you change your mind about this…” 

“I’m not changing my mind.”

“Then you’ll be a lord and…” She evenly held his gaze as she let out a slow breath. “As I am the head of House Trevelyan, it is expected for you to take my name.”

“Do what?”

“Take my name. I expect that you will take the surname Trevelyan, should we marry.”

“You said ‘should’ again. I’m not changing my mind.”

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You’re all right with being Cullen Trevelyan then?”

He shrugged. “It may take some getting used to.”

“What about Lord Cullen Trevelyan?”

“That one will definitely take some getting used to,” he chuckled as he captured one of her hands in his and kissed the back of it. 

She let out a sigh of relief as she intertwined her fingers in his. “I feared you might… reconsider once you’d heard that.”

“Never. My heart is yours.”


	40. Chapter 40

Despite the promise to do so, they still hadn’t talked about what came next. Cullen had agreed to joining the nobility for her, and Ariana was pleased to see he’d started making an effort to learn what that entailed. So far, that was all. He’d told her he wanted to marry her, but… he hadn’t asked. Nor had they planned anything.

Not that there had been time to do so with the military preparing to assault the Temple of Mythal. Cullen’s meetings seemed endless as officer after officer showed up in his office, discussing tactics and specifics of warfare that were far beyond what Ariana cared to comprehend. 

Even so, Ariana loved watching Cullen in the midst of these meetings. He was entirely in his element and utterly brilliant. She’d known he must have been to be so trusted by her sister and the others, but she’d not watched him work before and she loved getting this glimpse into his life.

The non-stop visitors to their quarters were an adjustment, however. Oh, they stayed downstairs and away from the private space she inhabited, but all she wanted to do was bask in the glow of their now very public relationship. With people constantly coming and going, that had proven impossible. Aside from the officers, there were scouts running classified information back and forth.

That morning in particular, the first scout had showed up at an unholy hour and dragged Cullen out of their bed and into the first of that day’s meetings. After a while, the noise below quieted and she’d forced herself awake and to prepare for the day. She’d had a bit of a rough start, so it was already past mid-morning when she finally climbed the ladder down into his office.  
It was empty.

Ariana breathed a sigh of relief as she made her way toward the coffee pot. There had already been one too many mornings when she’d wandered downstairs right into a meeting or to someone waiting for Cullen. 

The thought that they could move into what had once been her room popped into her head. It was an idea that she liked, but she wasn’t sure who to talk to about that… and not that it mattered. In the greater scheme of what was happening in the world around her right now, where she slept was unimportant. As long as she was with Cullen, at least.

Ariana wasn’t sure quite what to do with herself. It was the first week of Harvestmere and although it was likely winter would begin soon, it had thus far held off. She’d already harvested the garden and would leave it fallow until spring. Most of the nobles made themselves scarce after the party the previous Firesday. 

She crossed the stone bridge to the keep, entering the rotunda. As soon as she did, she heard Dorian’s voice float down from above her. “Well, look at that. If it isn’t the future Mrs. Rutherford.”

Ariana looked up to see him leaning over the railing, a mug of something in hand. He gave her a mock toast before taking a long, slow sip. She sighed and headed for the stairs toward the library.

She slowly took the stairs and when she stepped onto the landing, Dorian was still leaning against the railing. As Ariana joined him, he turned to her in mock surprise. “And she has time for little old me?”

“Dorian—” she started, but he interrupted her. 

“I thought we were friends.” The look on his face was no longer a joke. He was clearly hurt.

“We are,” Ariana sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“I recall a conversation seven—_seven_—months ago when you _insisted_ you hadn’t seen him naked. I can’t believe you would keep that from me,” he sniffed, taking another sip from his mug.

“I kept it from everyone.”

“I don’t know why. I’d be showing off that fine piece of… _ahem_. Sorry, where were we?”

“Show him off, would you?”

“Absolutely!”

“So about Bull…”

“_Vishante kaffas_. I hate it when you do that,” he glared at her. 

Ariana sighed again before she told him, “I am sorry, Dorian.”

He shook his head and took another sip. “I know and as loathe as I am to admit it, I understand why. But I’m still hurt.”

She reached out and squeezed his arm. “You have every reason to be. I hope that someday you can forgive me.”

“Of course I will, it’s not like I can be angry forever.” 

“Thank you.”

“Just… don’t ever lie to me again like that, yes?” 

“I won’t.”

“Promise?” 

“I promise.”

Dorian sniffed. “Well then. What’s next?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You are getting married, yes?”

“He hasn’t asked.” 

Dorian grabbed her hand and looked at the oversized ring Josephine had procured for the party. “And what is this?” 

“The honor of the Inquisition.”

“Well,” Dorian said as he dropped her hand. “That man is wild about you. He’ll ask.”

“I know he will, it’s only…” Ariana sighed. “Everything has been so sudden? What if he reconsiders?”

He snorted into his mug. “He won’t. And I do expect an invite.”

“You will be first on the list.” 

Ariana reached up to squeeze his arm, but Dorian shooed her away. “Go. I’ve got a meeting with your sister in a few.”

Dorian wiggled his fingers at her as she turned toward the stairs, climbing another level to the Rookery. It had been… ten months since she’d been up here last. Not since that fateful night she’d carried the classified envelope to Cullen and set this entire sequence of events in motion. She’d never really thought about that before. It was curious that Leliana had been so insistent and then… nothing.

As she crested the top of the stairs, she caught sight of Leliana and Cullen deep in conversation as they stared at a map laid out on Leliana’s desk. Cullen looked up. 

“Ariana.” She loved the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and his mouth ticked up in a lopsided grin as she loved his golden eyes showing every emotion he was feeling at that moment. As he approached and wrapped his arms around her, she loved the feeling she had with him. Like they could take on the world. “Hi.”

She lifted her lips to his and gave him a quick kiss. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“There’ve been some developments, we got caught up. What time is it?”

“Lunch?”

“Maker’s breath. Leliana, I’ve got that other meeting, but we’ll catch up after?” he called over his shoulder as he headed toward the stairs.

“Of course.” She smiled as she nodded and turned to Ariana. “Bann Trevelyan, can I help you with something?”

Ariana smiled back at Leliana as she waited for Cullen to make his way down the stairs. When she was certain he was far enough, she said, “I believe you’ve already given me more help than I ever knew—” Leliana’s smile broadened—“and I have one more favor to ask.”

***

With those two important conversations finished, Ariana returned to her room. She’d just set her phone down when it started buzzing. She snapped it back up and checked the screen, seeing Sebastian’s name. _Sebastian_. She hadn’t called him in the chaos. She’d meant to, she had, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do so…

“Sebastian,” she answered.

“_Phiuthar_,” he greeted her in return. “I heard the news. Congratulations. What a joyous occasion.”

Ariana swallowed, the sound loud in her ear. She didn’t know what to say to him, not after… all that he’d lost. Again. “I meant to call…”

“I understand. You know, Marian always thought of Cullen as a brother. She wanted… well, I think she would have been pleased that you found each other.”

“Seb…”

“I would have loved for you to truly have been my sister, but it was not meant to be. Cullen is a good man. I am pleased for you. Truly.” 

“Thank you.”

They lapsed into silence as Ariana took a steadying breath. “May I ask you something?” 

“Anything.”

“Would you… give me away? At the wedding.” 

A noise that sounded oddly like a sob came through the ear piece, followed by a pause. “I would be honored.”

“That means the world to me. And Seb? I am sorry.”

“The Maker does not give us more than we can bear.”

“Are you certain?”

“I am. It’s the only truth I know.”

She sighed as she felt the heartbreak for Sebastian’s loss creeping in. She knew something of that, of losing your family and your heart, but where hers had been in one fell swoop, Sebastian had a fresh wound on the scars of his heart.

“I’ll come back to Starkhaven.” 

“Nae. Stay with your sister and your fiancé.”

“They’ll be all right without me. It’ll be quick.”

“Ariana…” Sebastian’s voice was firm. “Do not come. You are needed where you are.”

“If you insist,” she sighed. 

“I do.” 

“Then… I love you, _bràthair_." 

“And I you, _phiuthar_. That will never change.”

When she hung up the phone, she felt the pain well up inside her, along with the guilt and the shame. The guilt and shame that she had been relieved Alistair survived the battle, even when that meant Hawke had not. Especially because it meant Hawke had not.

She dropped her face in her hands as the emotion rocked through her.

Why would the Maker do that? Why would He be so hard on those who loved Him the most? Sebastian didn’t deserve this. Not _any_ of this. He’d been faithful and loyal and a good Andrastian and yet… yet he was given the most to bear alone.

She slid off the bed, sinking to her knees as the tears broke free. Why would He subject his creations to such misery? Over and over and over again?

With those thoughts swirling in her head, Ariana wept.

***

Maker, he was exhausted. The meeting with his officers had taken hours longer than he’d planned and he still needed to finish what he’d been discussing with Leliana. Yet right now, all he wanted was Ariana in his arms. She had an ability to make him feel better about everything.

He climbed the ladder to their loft, surprised to find her in bed. It was late afternoon and he instinctively knew there was something wrong. She looked as though she’d been crying. She lay on her side and was staring at the wall with a thousand mile stare that he knew all too well.

“Ariana?” he asked as he approached, kneeling down beside the bed before lifting his hand to her cheek, still damp from tears. “Are you all right?”

She shuddered as his hand made contact and he froze, unsure of what to do. 

“Talk to me?” He was trying not to panic—he really was—but it was as though she’d flipped a switch. Where they’d been so happy just that morning, now she looked as though she hovered on the edge of despondency.

She drew in a shuddering breath and focused her eyes on him. “Do you remember that night, in the chapel, when we talked about forgiveness? You said some don’t deserve it.”

Cullen felt the ice seeping into his veins at the reminder of those days and the words he’d once spoken. Of course, he remembered it. The night when he’d finally told her what he’d done and of what he’d been capable during the darkest moments of his life. 

She hadn’t backed away. She hadn’t run. Instead, she’d set him free, staying beside him as he learned to live with himself. She’d helped him. Healed him. Freed him. He nodded, unable to speak, unsure of where this conversation was going.

“Sebastian called.” She choked back a sob as she wrapped her arms around herself. “He congratulated me. Us. On our engagement.”

“That’s… good?” He hesitated, rushing forward at the pain that crossed her face. “Bad?”

His mind was churning as he tried to put together what she was getting at and what Sebastian Vael had to do with their conversation from eight months prior. And more importantly, what he had to do with her current state. Why was she lying there like this?

“I told you that you should hate me for what I’ve done,” she whispered, “I hate myself, because the truth is, when I first heard… I was relieved it wasn’t Alistair.”

Cullen flinched.

He was horrified by her admission, the truth that she was _relieved_ that Theirin had made it out of the Fade alive when Hawke had not. That his friend—fellow survivor of the carnage of Kirkwall and his family in the way that only war can create—was gone instead of the Grey Warden… The man he thought had come between them, who still hovered there in the unspoken words. The man they’d never talked about.

He couldn’t speak, didn’t know how to speak in the face of the truth she’d just given him.

Without a word, he stood and made his way towards the ladder, back the way he’d come. She didn’t say a word, she didn’t even move, as he climbed down the ladder and walked out of his office.

He didn’t know where he was even going, but he had to get out of there. As he mindlessly walked through the rotunda and into the great hall, he ignored everyone, trying to wrap his mind around what Ariana had said to him.

She was relieved it wasn’t Alistair. It felt like a betrayal, especially now, after all they’d been through.

He hadn’t even realized that he’d made his way into the war room, quiet, empty, and cold at this hour, until he was leaning over the map on the table in front of him, staring at the Western Approach.

Those long days in the desert might not haunt him as the memories of Kinloch Hold and Kirkwall, but they were a part of him and his history nonetheless. 

_He_ commanded the army. _He_ was the one responsible for the choices made and the lives lost.

He’d spent countless hours writing letters to each family of the fallen to let them know what had taken place and of the sacrifices their loved ones had made for the good of Thedas, but Hawke… that had been his personal mourning.

The letter to Sebastian still sat in his desk drawer. As soon as he’d learned Varric had taken it upon himself to share the news, he’d left the letter unfinished. Writing it seemed too real. It meant that she truly was gone.

He wished he’d known why Hawke had made the choice to stay in the Fade. Trevelyan said without Hawke distracting the Nightmare, they all would have perished.

Cullen didn’t know how long he stood there, staring at the map, but he heard the door quietly open and click shut behind him before he heard Trevelyan’s soft footfall as she approached. She gave him a wide berth, rounding the side of the table so she was in his line of sight before she spoke, “I went by your office and found my sister in tears and you nowhere easily located.”

He shook his head, still staring down at the map.

“What in the Maker’s name happened?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with,” he sighed.

“Nothing to… Commander, look at me.” He lifted his eyes to Trevelyan’s face. She had an intense look on her face as she stared back at him. “This is precisely what I was concerned about.”

“What?” 

“She’s a distraction. We are at one of the most critical moments of our entire operation and you’re moping over a woman.”

“She’s not just a woman,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood to glare at her. “She’s the love of my life.” 

Trevelyan lifted her eyes to the ceiling in annoyance. “Thank the Maker for that, otherwise what a waste of time.” 

“I only needed—” Cullen started, but she interrupted him.

“Deal with it. I need you focused. The soldiers need you focused. Not whatever this—” Trevelyan gestured at him—“is.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “All right.” 

She continued, “Have you two even talked about it?”

“What is there to talk about?” 

“I’d imagine a great deal,” Trevelyan scoffed.

Cullen set his jaw as he stared at her. She looked as though she wanted to say something else, but merely shook her head at him and left. He stayed longer, considering what all had happened that summer, and he knew she was right. He needed to talk to Ariana.

It had been hours by the time he returned to his office. The shower was running, so he slowly made his way back up the ladder. He paced back and forth across his room—their room—as he thought about how he wanted the conversation to go.

With a soft knock on the door, he pushed it open, getting a face full of steam. He called toward the shower curtain, “Ariana?” 

“Yes?” She replied, her voice small.

“Can we talk?”

In the silence that followed, he could hear the water drops splattering on the tile floor. “Right now?” 

“Yes. I’ll stay out here if you don’t mind.”

“Okay.”

The silence descended over them again. Cullen leaned against the sink as he formulated the words to say. As if he hadn’t thought about it enough this afternoon.

He cleared his throat, before he said, “You didn’t tell me what happened at the peace negotiation.”

“Oh.” Nothing else followed the small sound.

“Ariana?”

“He threatened you. The Inquisition, too, but primarily you.”

That tugged at his heart more than he’d been expecting. He’d not realized that. “What did he say?” 

“Could we not talk about him?” she sighed and he heard a thud against the wall, as though she’d dropped her head against it.

“All right. Then tell me about Alistair.” 

“Andraste,” she muttered. “What about him?”

“It had only been a month.”

“Cullen, we were only together—”

“We weren’t together.” The words came out harsher than he’d intended. What he’d thought was a pause dragged on as she didn’t respond, so he continued, “Why did you do it?”

He could hardly hear her over the running water. “Nothing mattered anymore.”

“And?” 

The water turned off and her hand reached out to grab the towel next to the shower. The towel disappeared behind the curtain and then she pulled it back. “What do you want me to say? I made a mistake. But like you said, we weren’t together,” she threw his words back in his face.

She started past him toward the door, but he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her toward him. She made a half-hearted attempt to get free before she pressed her face into his neck and wrapped her arms around his waist. He held her, feeling the dampness of her skin, the water from her hair dripping over his arm. He felt the beating of her heart and the warmth of her breath on his skin. 

“Did you love him?”

She sighed into his neck. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” When she didn’t respond, he lifted his hand to the back of her head and held her to him. “I need to know.” 

“As much as I was capable of loving anyone.”

“Anyone?”

“Anyone, but you.”

“So you did?” 

“Cullen, don’t,” she sighed again as she pulled away from him. “We had a history. We had _years_.”

“What happened?” 

“Like Hawke didn’t—” she abruptly cut off.

Cullen felt the ache inside him sharpen at the mention of his friend. “Hawke what?”

Ariana shook her head and headed for the bedroom. “I don’t want to talk anymore.” 

He followed her as she headed for the wardrobe to choose an outfit. “Ariana, please.”

She dropped her clothes on the bed with a sigh and then sat down next to them. “Why does it matter so much to you?”

“You left me…” He sat down next to her and took her hand in his. She was staring at her feet, so he continued, “And then Alistair showed up and you and he…” 

Ariana pressed her lips together. “He was my first real relationship after Lachlan’s death. And after you… well, there was something comfortable about him, even if… even though I knew nothing would come of it.” Cullen intertwined their fingers and she looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears. “I hoped Jean-Luc would hear and you’d be safe. I was a fool.” 

“You’re not a fool.”

“I am,” she disagreed with a shake of her head. “We’ve wasted so much time.” 

He wrapped his arm around her to hold her against him. “No. We have today, and all the days after.”

“I truly do not deserve you,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Oh, Ariana…” Cullen pressed his lips to the top of her head. He didn’t know what to say, so he simply held her.


	41. Chapter 41

Another too early morning. Ariana climbed down the ladder and headed for the coffee pot, grateful Cullen was always willing to leave her some. Mornings had been more and more difficult, so she needed every ounce of help she could get.

As she finished pouring her cup of coffee, she reveled in the quiet of the office. Just an hour before it had been filled with all manner of scouts and officers, arguing over the best way to approach the temple. The density of the forest surrounding it made it a particularly difficult target and the voices had been rather heated at times as they discussed it. In the wake of all that noise, the quiet had been a blessing.

There was a light knock on the door. So much for the peace and quiet. When it cracked open, she was surprised to see her sister entering. “Eve! Good morning. Are you looking for Cullen?”

“No, he’s in the war council. I wanted to speak to you.” Evelyn hovered inside the door, even after she’d pushed it closed behind her.

“Me?” Ariana gestured for Evelyn to come further in. Her standing so far away felt uncomfortable. It had been more than a week since they’d really spoken… since the incident with Jean-Luc. “Always happy to see my big sister.”

Evelyn gave her what appeared to be a nervous smile. Evelyn nervous? That was new. Ariana had never seen her that way. “Let’s take a walk.”

Ariana nodded her agreement and followed her sister out the door to the ramparts. She sipped on her coffee as they walked toward the helicopter pad with the Inquisition’s newest acquisition proudly sitting on it.

“Beautiful chopper,” Ariana said in an attempt to make conversation. It was beautiful, all black with sleek lines. It was almost shining in the light of the morning sun. Evelyn didn’t respond. Ariana glanced over to see her attempting to cover the burn scar on the left side of her face with her braid. It seemed Evelyn hadn’t quite shaken the habit of covering it. “Eve?”

“Oh, um…” Evelyn snapped her eyes over to meet Ariana’s gaze. “Solas and I are going to Crestwood.”

Ariana paused midstep, turning her body to fully face her sister. “But aren’t you leaving for the Arbors Wilds next week?” 

“Yes. It’s only for the weekend.” Evelyn was carefully watching her reaction as she spoke. “There’s a nice resort there that overlooks this natural cavern and, well…”

Ariana’s eyebrows shot up. They were going away for the weekend? That was big. She’d noticed the two of them did seem rather close, but she hadn’t realized their… relationship? Well, whatever it was progressed to this. Given how often the man waxed eloquent about the Elvhen, she was surprised by this turn of events. 

It could not have escaped his notice that Evelyn was very human. 

She didn’t tell Evelyn any of that, however. Instead, she simply said, “I’ve heard the Crestwood Lodge is quite lovely, especially this time of year.”

Evelyn blew out a breath. “Thank you for that. I thought you might… People know that we’ve been seeing each other, but this is new for me. I’m nervous.” 

“Nervous?” Ariana asked as Evelyn started walking again. She had to rush to keep up with her. “Eve, why would you be nervous?”

Evelyn blew out another breath and swallowed, her eyes darting around as she checked to see if anyone was standing nearby. “I’ve never… beenwithanyonebefore,” she rushed the end of her sentence out as a single word.

“That’s okay, I’m sure Solas understands—”

Evelyn dead stopped and Ariana leapt back to avoid running into her. “No. It’s that I’ve never been _with_ anyone.”

Ariana frowned at her. “You’ve never… oh.”

“And that’s why I’m nervous.” 

“There’s nothing to be nervous about.” 

Evelyn sighed, twisting her braid around her finger. “Yes there is. I’m almost thirty.” 

“So you were waiting for the right person. There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, it will make this weekend all the better.”

“This is humiliating.” Evelyn ran her hands over her face. Ariana noticed the blush creeping up her neck for the first time.

“Why?”

“I’m asking my little sister for advice on sex. But I can’t ask anyone else. That’s not something they need to know about me.”

Ariana bit back her disappointment at yet another subtle dig from her sister. She had only come to her because she had no one else to go to. Not because she wanted Ariana’s advice specifically. Ariana kept her disappointment to herself as she reached forward to squeeze Evelyn’s arm. “I’m happy to help.”

Evelyn gave her a tense smile. “My only request is that you not give me details. I still need to be able to look Cullen in the eyes.”

Ariana let out a laugh. “We can have this conversation without going into that.”

“Thank the Maker.”

Ariana laughed again as she wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulders and they made their way back toward her room.

***

Cullen stared at the ring in his hand, marveling at the way the light of late afternoon hit it, reflecting the light around the room. It was better than he could have imagined. He would forever be grateful to Dagna for completing it so quickly. He was afraid to take it out of the box, afraid to touch it, lest he mess it up somehow before he could give it to her.

A door opened in his office below and he snapped the box closed.

“Cullen?” Ariana called up.

“Here,” he responded as he frantically looked around for a place to put the ring. He slid it under the pillow next to him. It seemed like a great idea at first, but then he realized the bed was not the place he should keep it—

“What are you doing?” she asked as her head popped up from the ladder.

“Oh, I am… ah, I was only…” he stalled. He couldn’t think about anything except that ring in the box under the bloody pillow. Why had he put it there?

He watched as she climbed up into the loft and approached him. She was glowing. Maybe it was the way the sunlight looked on her golden brown skin, but she looked alive. Maker, she was so beautiful, he didn’t know how he’d been so blessed to be loved by her.

“Are you busy?” she asked as she steadily approached.

“No, I’m—” The words died on his lips as she pulled her dress over her head. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath which was so… her. Maker, how he loved this woman. He loved everything about her.

“Good,” she told him as she straddled him. “I am so horny.”

If he hadn’t already been struck silent, that would have done it. She wasn’t usually so blunt. She pressed her hand into his chest, pushing him back onto the mattress as her mouth worked its way all over him… Against his own mouth, his jaw, down his neck, along his collar, and following the path of her fingers as she unbuttoned his shirt.

“Ariana….” His hands had been on her hips, but he moved them up along her sides, feeling the warmth of her body, until he reached her breasts. Cupping them, feeling the fullness of them in his hands, loving how perfectly she was made for him. 

She finished unbuttoning his shirt and pushed it wide apart, her mouth moving over his chest as she ground against him. He slid his hands around to her back and up into her hair as she worked further down.

Her fingers expertly worked his belt buckle and fly of his trousers before she slipped her hand inside, wrapping around his growing erection. He loved the way her hand felt wrapped around him. The perfect amount of pressure, the perfect amount of softness. He moaned as she stroked him once. Then a second time.

She stilled and he opened his eyes, looking down his body into her grey eyes, darkened with desire as she gazed up at him. “May I?”

He nodded. “You don’t have to ask every time.”

“I wasn’t sure if anything had changed since…” she trailed off as she captured her lower lip between her teeth.

He reached down to caress her cheek. “Thank you.”

She smiled up at him, holding his gaze with love, before she looked down to help him remove his trousers. She took him back in hand, her fingers exploring, before she dipped her head down and gave his cock a long, slow lick.

At the feel of her tongue on him, he moaned and his hips slightly rocked into her hand. She shot him a smirk before doing it again. “Oh Maker, Ariana,” he breathed as she stroked him and wrapped her mouth around the tip of his cock.

He reached down to run his fingers along the side of her face. She lifted her eyes to his and slid him deeper into her mouth. He could feel himself hardening further in the soft, wet heat of her mouth. Her tongue swirled around the tip, dipping into the sensitive slit, before flattening on the underside as she took him even deeper.

Cullen said a quick prayer of thanks to the Maker, Andraste, anyone who was listening, that this woman—this incredible woman—had insisted on showing him this. Her mouth around him felt better than he’d ever thought possible. He rocked his hips upwards into her mouth as she rolled his balls in her other hand, feeling the back of her throat and the way her muscles rippled around the sensitive tip.

“Ariana…” he breathed as she worked him. Her mouth, her hands, her grey eyes burning into his soul. His fingers were intertwined in her hair at the back of her neck. She held his gaze as she slid him almost entirely out of her mouth, before slowly pushing back in. He was so hard, he didn’t think it would take much longer. 

He lightly tugged at her hair, pulling her off him. She wrapped her hand around his erection and continued to work him. “What?”

“You don’t have to—”

She flattened her tongue along the underside of his cock, running it from the base to the tip, before moving back to his balls, taking them entirely in her mouth as her hand worked him. “Oh Maker, Ariana.” Her name was a prayer on his lips.

She licked along his length again before taking him back in her mouth, quickly finding a rhythm as she moved her mouth up and down him, keeping her hand in time with her mouth.

He couldn’t stop the rocking of his hips if he wanted to, she felt so good. He could stay in her mouth for as long as she would let him, it was perfect and soft and warm and— The hand that had been fondling his balls pressed against the skin behind them and he bucked into her mouth.

“Ariana, I’m sorr— ahh,” he groaned as she began a light massage. “That feels… really good.”

At the combination of her mouth, her fingers, her hand, he felt the curling as the base of his spine, the intensity of his orgasm threatening to spill over, he chased the impending release, chased the need to release.

“Maker, Ariana, I’m so close,” he managed to choke out as he thrust all the way into her mouth, feeling the back of her throat, the tightness of it, the way it spasmed around him.

She swallowed and he hissed. When she did it again, the sensation shot all the way up his spine and pushed him over the edge. 

“I’m coming,” he gasped as the shudder overtook his body and he released into the back of her throat. She slowly, carefully, swallowed his seed and continued to gently suck him as bolts of pleasure continued to rock through his body.

When she finally slid him out of her mouth, Cullen’s chest was heaving from the intensity of it. She climbed up along his body, giving him several light kisses along his body that made him shudder. “You’re too good to me,” he breathed as she curled up next to him.

She pressed a kiss to his jaw as she rested a hand on his chest, above his heart. He lifted his hand on top of hers, feeling the beating with her hand in his. He wanted to tell her what she meant to him, how much he loved her, but he didn’t know how. The words were caught at the back of his throat, but his hands and his mouth knew exactly how to show her.

He rolled them over, taking her face in his hands. He could taste the saltiness, the muskiness of himself when he kissed her. He pressed her further into her back as he kissed down her neck, along her collarbone, and then lower still. He wasn’t in a rush. Rather, he wanted to enjoy her, wanted to enjoy everything about her.

Ariana sucked in a breath as he shifted his body on top of hers, lips moving down between her breasts. His hands ran down her sides, gripping her waist as he pressed soft kisses under the soft swell of her breasts. She let out a strangled moan as she lifted her back off the bed, pressing her chest toward him, encouraging him. He smiled as he kissed around the curve of one breast, reveling in the noises coming from her throat and the way her fingers dug into his shoulders.

Her head was pressed back into the pillow, eyes squeezed shut. He watched her face as he took a nipple in her mouth, tongue dancing around the hard peak. “Maker, Cullen.” He grazed the tip with his teeth before running his tongue along the same path.

He released the nipple and replaced it with his hand, rolling the hard peak between his fingers as he kissed across to the other, the cries rumbling in her chest reverberating through his lips. He continued to tease her, lavishing the same attention on her other breast. Ariana’s hands were wrapped in the bed sheets, her back arched into him.

“Mmm, you have the most beautiful breasts.” He lifted his head to look into her eyes, darkened and wild. Her mouth dropped open in a whimper as his tongue darted out to swirl around the nipple he’d been playing with. 

He ran his fingers down across her stomach, dropping them lower toward the wet heat between her legs. As his fingers ran along her slick folds, his breath hitched at how hot and wet she was. She’d told him that going down on him was a turn on, but he was always amazed at how true it was. He let out a groan as he slid two fingers inside of her. She was more than ready for him. And after exploring all her perfect curves, all he wanted was to be inside her.

He hooked his arm under her knee and pulled it toward her chest as he drew himself even with her.

“Do you need a minute?” she asked as she splayed her hands across his chest and rolled her hips against him.

“No.” He dipped his head down to murmur as he buried himself in her in one fluid move.  
She gasped his name as her muscles clenched around him. He stilled, giving her a moment to adjust, reveling in the feeling of her heat around him. As good as her mouth felt, there was nothing that felt like her body wrapped and pulsing around him. She shifted her hips to give him a better angle, wrapping her arms around his back, and she stared into his eyes as he began to move. 

He slid himself out, his pace unhurried, before he took another plunging stroke, burying himself back inside her. The way her eyes fluttered, the tiny gasps she made as he filled her, were the tiny moments of her that filled his heart. He dipped his face toward hers and kissed her, covering her mouth with his own, as he continued the languid pace of his strokes.

“Maker.” She arched her back, trying to get closer to him. 

“Cullen,” he growled, giving her a light nip on her shoulder. Her hands dug into his ass, hips pressed off the bed. The angle was good, so good, as he slid out and plunged back in.

“Cullen, please…” She pleaded as he wrapped his hands around the top of her head, his weight on his forearms, as he looked into her eyes, needing to see her. He focused on the furrow of her brow and the way she caught her lower lip in her teeth; the pink tinge to her cheeks and the way she sucked in each breath as she chased her pleasure; and he memorized the dark grey of her eyes as she stared into his very soul. 

“Ariana—” The raw desire in her eyes spurred him on, the once slow pace increasing as he drove into her several times.

“Maker—Cullen. Please. I’m so close…” She was meeting him thrust for thrust, her hips rocking against his in a steady motion. She looked so beautiful right then, hovering on the edge of her orgasm.

“Marry me.” The words slipped out as he slid inside her another time. He hadn’t meant to say it, not like _this_. He’d planned to write a speech, to get down on one knee, and ask, but now that he’d said it, there was no going back.

“What?” Her mouth dropped open as he buried himself inside her. He watched her eyes as they darkened, her entire body tightened beneath him. She held his gaze, pressing her head back into the pillow and into his hands as she started to come undone around him. 

Her inner muscles clenched around him, pulling him deeper. He dropped his head to her neck and with one last thrust, splintered into his own climax, his hot seed pouring into her.

When he finally caught his breath, she was lightly running her hands down his back. He rolled them onto their sides, her leg wrapped around his waist and him still buried inside her. 

He tenderly gazed into her eyes and his heart blossomed at the love he saw reflected in them. He reached up toward the pillow behind her and grabbed the box he’d stashed there earlier. He fumbled with it, struggling to get the ring out, but when he did, he held it up in front of her. “I meant it. Marry me.” 

“Yes,” she breathed. “_Yes_.” 

She pushed a lock out hair out of his face and ran her fingers along the edge of his face. He captured her hand, bringing her fingers to his lips, before he slipped the ring onto her finger, marveling again at the way it caught the sunlight of the late afternoon.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He claimed her mouth with his, pouring his heart, his passion, everything he had to give to show her how much she meant to him.

***

The fire cast a warm light throughout the room, the crackling of the logs was barely audible over the murmur of voices but the scent of the burning wood was familiar and comfortable.

Cullen watched Ariana in conversation with Josephine, watched the way she ran her finger along the rim of her glass and the way her eyes lit up in laughter. He saw the ring he’d put on her finger that very afternoon glinting in the firelight and a smile spread across his face, feeling the happiness that radiated from deep within him.

Had it only been two weeks since his world had been turned completely upside down? Two weeks since he’d gone from certain she would be lost to him forever to engaged to the woman of his dreams?

He lifted his whiskey to his lips, tasting the earthiness of it as it’s warmth spread down his throat. He wished he didn’t have to leave for the Arbor Wilds tomorrow. Now that she was very publicly a part of his life, he wanted her by his side. Always.

As soon as her sister returned from her weekend away, Ariana would travel with her, but Cullen couldn’t wait any longer. He should be at the front with the troops, not at Skyhold.

Leliana cleared her throat from where she stood next to him. He’d forgotten she was there as the pair of them had silently watched the room. 

He glanced over at her. She was staring across the room at Ariana. “Yes?” he asked.

“I presume the new ring means she said yes?”

That same happiness that had been radiating inside of him burst forth. He beamed. “It does.”

“Congratulations. I am happy for you.” She started to take a step away from him, but he reached out a hand to stop her.

“Leliana, before you go… I want to thank you.”

“For what?”

“Your support. And help. I know this was your idea and I’m… grateful more than I can ever say.” Leliana gave his arm a squeeze as she smiled, before walking away. 

Ariana caught his eye and smiled at him, beckoning him over to join her. He immediately went to her side, wrapping his arm around her waist. It was something he’d wanted for so long, to be able to signal to the world that she was his. He swore to himself that he would never under appreciate the ability to touch her whenever they were in public.

He knew he couldn’t always be at her side, there were going to be aspects of their lives that prevented it, but he promised himself that he would always touch her. They had always spoken best with their bodies and right now, with his hand around her waist, was no exception.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and Ariana fished it out. She gave Josephine an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Josie, but it’s my sister. Please excuse me for a moment.”

She squeezed Cullen’s hand and gave him a smile all their own as she lifted the phone to ear and headed for a quiet corner.

Josephine turned to him and he could sense her enthusiasm. “Commander, have you considered when you might like to get married?” Cullen shook his head. She continued, “Would you be opposed to Summerday?”

“No. I would marry her tomorrow if I could.”

“You can’t do that!” Her vehemence surprised him.

“Why not?”

“Bann Trevelyan is getting married! She can’t elope! She’s a bann of the Free Marches! Imagine what people would think!”

“I don’t really care what people will think.”

Josephine sighed. “You will be a part of that world very soon. You should care more.” 

Cullen glanced around, spotting Ariana still standing in the corner animatedly talking on the phone. He was glad to see the two sisters growing closer, even if it was disconcerting at times that his lover’s—no, his fiancée’s—sister was his commander-in-chief. “Well, I’ve had other things on my mind. Like the war.”

“Of course, it has been a trying time for all of us.”

“Sorry about that.” Ariana breezed up, tucking herself into his side. Cullen wrapped his arm back around her and kissed the side of her head.

“Cullen and I were discussing the wedding.”

“You were?” Ariana lifted her eyebrows and he only sighed in response. “What about it?”

“I thought Summerday might be nice.”

“Summerday is perfect,” Ariana told her.

“Is it?” Cullen asked.

“Oh wonderful!” Josephine exclaimed. “I’ll work with that.”

“Josephine, remember we’re at war,” Cullen told her.

“I’m aware, Commander. More notice is quite preferable, however. It will be a state wedding after all.”

“A what?” 

Josephine let out a dramatic sigh. “Have you listened to a word I’ve said tonight?”

“Josie, let’s set up a time later this week, we can start planning,” Ariana interjected.

“Of course,” Josephine told her.

“If you don’t mind, I need to borrow the commander.” Ariana gave Josephine a pretty smile as she tucked her arm in Cullen’s and dragged him away. 

As soon as they were in the great hall, he dipped his head to murmur in her ear, “The commander, am I?”

She shot him a smoldering look, stirring Cullen to life. She didn’t respond until they’d made it through the great hall and into the rotunda. “Mmm, yes. Commander of my heart…” she told him, before dropping her voice to a whisper, “Commander of my body.” 

“Am I?”

“Yes, _Commander_.”

Cullen felt the heat shoot straight down his spine at the way she said his title. Once they were through the rotunda, Ariana wrapped her hands around the back of his head to pull his mouth toward hers. He pressed her back up against the wall as his mouth enveloped hers. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth as he teased the tip along her upper lip first, then her lower, before plunging inside in a breathtaking kiss.

Ariana’s hands had moved from the back of his head to explore his chest and upper arms. When they dipped lower, Cullen hoisted her up against the wall, pinning her against it with his hips. Ariana let out an unhappy huff.

“Impatient, are we?” he chuckled as he ran his teeth along the shell of her ear. Cullen loved the way she trembled with anticipation. Maker, he loved everything about this woman.

She pulled his lips back toward his and kissed him slower this time, as though she were trying to memorize the way his mouth felt on hers. When they finally broke apart, both were breathing heavily.

“Let’s get to our room,” he started to pull away but she gripped his arm. 

“Solas isn’t here,” she told him with a mischievous look.

“He’s not, but we’re going to the bedroom.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and disentangled himself from her arms. Taking her hand in his, he tugged her toward the door. They hurried across the stone bridge, hand-in-hand, almost stumbling over one another in their haste. As soon as they were through the doors to Cullen’s office, Ariana made quick work of his shirt.

Cullen lifted her against the ladder, giving her another enthralling kiss as he began to lift her dress up to her hips.

Something began buzzing, momentarily distracting him. “What’s—”

“Ignore it,” she said as her hands dipped lower to work at his belt and the fly of his trousers. He took her lead, pulling her dress over her head and tossing it on the ground. Her hand had slipped inside his trousers and she wrapped her hand around his cock to stroke him.

Cullen closed his eyes as he sucked in air. Maker’s breath, her hand felt incredible. He wanted to be inside her, it was where he belonged. 

He pushed his trousers over his hips, letting them fall down his legs and he positioned himself at her entrance.

A shrill ring sounded in the room and he froze. Ariana’s face shifted to panic as she pushed at his chest. “My phone.” She scrambled away from him, dropping to her knees on the stone floor to dig through her discarded dress. She pulled out her phone and swiped at the screen. “Eve, I’m here. What happened?”


	42. Chapter 42

Her return to Skyhold had been far less ceremonious than Evelyn thought it would. She’d expected to return changed, a woman in every sense of the word, and instead, Solas had ended it. Instead, she’d returned to Skyhold with a broken heart.

Evelyn stared down into the cup of tea she cradled in her hands and blinked back the tears that threatened at the back of her eyes. The others continued their cheerful chatting around her as though they hadn’t noticed. Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t. Evelyn didn’t quite care what the others thought. 

_I am sorry. I distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again._

It was the memory that followed, the memory of her begging him not to leave her that had the lump in her throat tightening further and her heart feeling heavy and pained. She did not need to beg for a man to love her and yet still she had.

_I can’t. I’m sorry._

Evelyn closed her eyes and a single tear slipped out. She felt it as it trickled down her face, but she refused to touch it. A tear for her shame.

She opened her eyes. The others either hadn’t noticed or chose not to comment on her silence. Brunch had been an event Josephine insisted Evelyn participate in this morning. They’d rearranged her room for a small table that was currently occupied by Josephine herself, the arcane advisor Morrigan, and Ariana.

Evelyn’s gaze lingered on Ariana across the table from her. There was something different about her… something changed. After Adamant, there was something different about all of them, but Ariana was disparate in the difference. The edge and the fire that Evelyn had once seen in her was no longer there. Somewhere in the previous year and a half, Ariana transformed into someone else entirely. Her younger sister had always been beautiful, but somehow she had become magnificent and almost otherworldly in her radiance.

So much so that Evelyn couldn’t fault the prince of Orlais for wanting to make her his wife. There was something about her that made people want to do anything for her and everything to have her. Now that she really thought about it, it was unnerving how much people were willing to do for Ariana. She’d seen it over and over again. She hadn’t recognized that it was happening at the time, but now she could see it as clear as day. 

She was a good woman who cared deeply for the plight of others, but that wasn’t what did it. There was something about her. Something Evelyn couldn’t quite put her finger on for why they all went out of their way for her and they would all do anything for her. In fact, Evelyn herself had told her that in as many words just three short weeks prior. _“I would do anything for you. We all would.”_

Evelyn’s attention was drawn back to the present as she noticed the steadying breath her sister took before sipping her tea. A full plate of barely touched food sat on the table in front of her.

“Are you well?” Evelyn asked.

Ariana gave her a forced smile. “Of course, only a bit under the weather this morning.”

“Tis a wonder you aren’t used to it yet,” Morrigan quipped from next to Evelyn.

“Aren’t used to what, Lady Morrigan?” Ariana asked as she lifted her cup for another sip.

“It’s been, what? Nine? Ten weeks? One would assume you’d be expecting it by now.” 

A silence descended over the group. A silence so profound Evelyn could hear the laughter of the guards on the ramparts through the doors of her balcony. She could hear the wind whistling through the mountains. The sound of Ariana setting her cup down onto the table was like a crash in the silence.

“Oh, did you not know? My, that is shocking.” 

As they continued to sit in silence, Ariana stared at the other woman with a look of confusion. Evelyn saw the precise moment that Ariana realized the truth. “How is that possible?”

It wasn’t long before Evelyn herself felt what the woman had been talking about. “Maker’s blessings.”

“Must I explain it to you?” Morrigan was asking Ariana, “Surely you understand how that works?” 

“Explain what?” Josephine interrupted.

Morrigan lifted her eyebrows at Ariana, but Evelyn had had enough. “Ariana’s pregnant.” 

Josephine’s hands flew to cover her mouth as Ariana turned to her with wide eyes. “Not necessarily, I’ve been under a lot of stress, I thought—”

“You are. I can feel it,” Evelyn interrupted.

“Very good, Inquisitor.” Condescension dripped from Morrigan’s voice. Evelyn really didn’t care for her tone. “Tis a wonder you did not notice sooner.”

“I wasn’t looking for it,” she snapped. 

Possibilities ran through her head. Morrigan had said nine or ten weeks, that would be… Adamant? They hadn’t even returned to Skyhold yet, had they? Ariana may even have still been in Sahrnia. It could be anyone’s.

“Is it Cullen’s?”

Ariana narrowed her eyes as she snapped, “Of course, it is. Who else?”

“Well, there are at least two other—” she cut off at the horrified look that appeared on Ariana’s face. “What?” 

“That was uncalled for,” Ariana quietly told her.

“Well, it’s true.” 

Ariana didn’t respond. She pressed her lips together and looked out toward the open doors of the balcony and another silence descended on the group. This one was much heavier. Maybe she had been a little harsh on Ariana, but…They were days away from beginning the assault on the Temple of Mythal. Given how much of a distraction Ariana had already been to Cullen, she couldn’t have him losing focus now. Not when they were so close to victory.

“Don’t tell him.” 

“What?” Josephine gasped and Ariana turned back toward her with another horrified look.

“I’m not keeping this from him.”

“Only until after the assault.” 

“He’s going to battle. He may _die_ and you want to keep this from him?” 

“Yes.”

Ariana shook her head. “Unbelievable.” 

“Tis only a man,” Morrigan spoke up.

“Excuse me.” Ariana pushed herself away from the table and headed for the balcony.

Josephine stared at Evelyn with a horrified look of her own. “What?”

Josephine simply shook her head and stood to follow Ariana onto the balcony. Evelyn watched as Josephine wrapped her arms around Ariana. The way Ariana had done for Evelyn the previous weekend when she’d returned to Skyhold with a broken heart.

“That went well,” Evelyn sighed.

“She’ll come around,” Morrigan shrugged as she lifted her own drink for a sip.

Maybe she would, but Evelyn had no time to worry about Ariana’s feelings at the moment. Her sister’s personal drama was of little consequence when they were in the midst of a war for their very lives.

***

The following week had been tense at Skyhold as the final preparations were made. Evelyn had taken Ariana aside and made a halfway attempt at an apology, before she again insisted that Ariana not tell Cullen. They’d argued over it, with Ariana dissolving into a tearful mess at one point, but when Evelyn reminded her that Cullen would insist she stay at Skyhold, safely out of danger, Ariana finally capitulated. At least until the battle was over.

She needed to be at the front with the man loved and the rest of her Inquisition family. Yet every night when Cullen called her, she felt more and more uneasy about keeping the truth from him. He deserved to know, yet Evelyn’s words echoed heavily within her, reminding her there was far more at stake than this.

They arrived in the Arbor Wilds late in the afternoon on the third day after the assault on the temple had begun. The main camp was sparsely populated with all but the injured and those incapable of fighting left. Evelyn, Josephine, and Morrigan rushed off to the forward camp to get an update on the battle, so Ariana sought out somewhere she could be useful. She located Adan amongst a group of healers and he quickly put her to work making potions and salves to treat the wounded.

By the time the sun hovered above the horizon, she noticed Cullen stride into the camp, calling orders to the soldiers who trailed behind him. The line of men and women reduced one at a time as they would peel off to follow his commands. He stooped inside an open air tent and bent over a table, shouting something at a soldier nearby. 

Karner appeared shortly thereafter and rolled out a map on the table in front of them.

Sweat glistened on his brow from the exertion of the day’s battle and his hair curled around the edges of his face. He looked exhausted. Ariana wanted to go to him and take him in her arms, but she resisted, instead focusing on the herb she’d been crushing into a paste for a healing salve. She continued to watch him though, marveling at his presence and control. She’d seen very little of him as commander and loved watching him in his element.

As soon as Evelyn joined Cullen in the war tent, his head snapped up and scanned the camp. When his eyes landed on her, his entire face changed, the tense look and exhaustion written all over his face melted away.

He didn’t say a word to those around him as he rushed toward her, intensely focused on reaching her. She stood to welcome him and his arms slipped around her waist. He pulled her toward him, capturing her mouth with his in a ravenous kiss. She clutched at the front of his battle armor as he dipped her back, deepening the kiss.

“Maker, I’ve missed you,” he told her when they finally broke apart, each of them gasping for air. He lifted one hand to tangle in her hair as his eyes burned into hers. His muskiness assaulted her senses.

“I’ve missed you too,” she told him as she wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed him again, more slowly and tenderly than the first time.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go. Now that Trevelyan is here, we need to brief her. I’ll see you later?”

“Of course.” They untangled themselves from each other and Ariana studied his face. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days. Ariana ached for what he must be going through, what he must be experiencing on the battlefield each day.

“Do you know where our tent is?” he asked.

She shook her head and Cullen yelled for a scout. One materialized beside them and he directed her to show Ariana the way. He captured her hands in his and lifted them, pressing his lips against the back of each of her palms. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Before he turned away, he pulled her back toward him and gave her another kiss. Ariana was certain he’d intended for it to be short, but she wasn’t able to tear herself away and neither was he. There was an urgency about it, a desperation, as though he would never see her again.

His hand cupped her cheek as he paused for breath. Ariana gave him a light shove toward the war tent. “Go.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before he turned toward the tent where Evelyn and the other advisors were now waiting for him.

The scout led Ariana toward a tent on the fringes of the camp. It was more spacious than some of the others she’d seen on their walk, with a larger than average sleeping set up in the middle. She didn’t quite know how to describe it, except that it had clearly been designed for more than one person to sleep in and it looked rather comfortable. 

In fact, it looked so comfortable, she decided it would be a good opportunity for a nap. The travel and salve-making had exhausted her more than she realized. Her small bag was already tucked away in the back of the tent, so she changed into more comfortable clothing, slid under the covers, and let herself drift to sleep.

Soft thuds pulled her from her slumber as Cullen slid into their makeshift bed next to her. He pulled her toward him and wrapped himself around her.

Ariana let out a happy noise as she snuggled into his arms, reveling in the way it felt to have him with her once more. She’d missed him in the weeks they’d been apart, she knew she did, but being back in his arms felt better than she’d thought possible.

“Forgive me, that took longer than anticipated,” he murmured into her hair, his warm breath tickling the back of her neck. There was not even an opportunity to respond before she heard the steady rhythm of his breath as he fell straight into a deep sleep. Ariana smiled into her pillow at how much she loved this man.

***

“Somebody tell me what in the Maker’s name happened!” Cullen shouted as he stalked through the camp. The abrupt withdrawal of Corypheus’s Red Templar army that morning had been unsettling enough, but when the soldiers came back from the temple with only the shattered Eluvian mirror and no Inquisitor, he was ready to go out of his mind.

“Commander!” Karner called from the communications tent. “We’ve received word from the Inquisitor.” 

“Maker’s breath,” he cursed, changing direction to head directly toward her.

“She’s at Skyhold,” Karner continued.

“That’s not possible!” he said as he stooped through the opening to stand next to her. 

“She went through the Eluvian,” Karner explained as she turned to a soldier bent over a computer next to her. “Meekins, print the report.”

The sound of the printer was the only noise as everyone waited for it to finish. Cullen snatched the paper. “Print more and deliver to the war tent. Does anyone know where Leliana is?”  
“I’ll get her, ser,” a scout told him before scurrying off through the camp.

“Josephine and Cassandra as well.” Two more scouts disappeared without a word.

“The Inquisitor requested the helicopter return at once,” Karner added as he began to turn away.

“Send it. And keep me updated,” Cullen told her. He left the communications tent to head for his own, quickly traversing the camp. He’d left Ariana in bed as she’d not been feeling well and he hoped to check in on her before he met with the others.

The Red Templars’ abrupt disappearance and Trevelyan traveling through an Eluvian to Skyhold consumed his thoughts. The unexpected turn the battle had taken was one he’d not prepared for. Neither had the others most likely.

When he didn’t find Ariana in their tent, he assumed she must be feeling better. He checked his watch and decided he could pop by the field apothecary, but when he reached it, she wasn’t there either. Adan was organizing his stores.

“Doctor Adan, good afternoon.”

Adan paused in his mixing to give Cullen his signature sour smile. “Commander, what brings you in? Need some herbs?”

“No, thanks. I’m actually looking for Ari— Bann Trevelyan. Have you seen her?” 

“Hmm, no, not since this morning. She planned to take a walk. Said she wasn’t feeling well.”

Still not feeling well? Concern surfaced in the back of Cullen’s mind. “When was that?” 

“Like I said, this morning.”

Cullen didn’t know if the man was being intentionally difficult, but that wasn’t helpful. “If you see her, let me know immediately?”

Adan nodded and returned to his work. Cullen grabbed the nearest scout and instructed him to locate Ariana at once. His unease grew with every passing minute, but Cullen forced himself to the war tent to update the others on what happened that morning.

The others were already waiting, each having received a copy of the report, so he dove into explaining the withdrawal of the army and Trevelyan’s unusual journey to Skyhold.

It couldn’t have been more than half an hour before the scout he’d sent to search for Ariana appeared outside the tent. “Ser?”

The concern shifted into full on fear when she wasn’t with him. Cullen walked out of the war tent without another word and followed the scout toward the communications tent. “We can’t locate her.” 

“What do you mean can’t?” 

“No one has seen her since this morning.”

“Who did you ask?” he snapped. 

“Everyone in the camp before the army retreated.” 

Cullen took a deep breath and slowly pressed the air back out through his mouth as he fought to maintain his control. Where was she? “Are you certain?”

“I am,” the scout replied.

“All right then.” Cullen strode through the tent flap. “Someone get me Skyhold.”

It wasn’t long before he had the satellite phone pressed to his ear and Trevelyan on the other end. He didn’t bother with pretense as he asked, “Have you heard from your sister?”

“No…” Trevelyan carefully responded. “Why? Is something the matter?” 

Cullen tasted bile at the back of his throat as he fought back to desire to shout that everything was the matter. “We can’t find her.”

“What do you mean can’t find her?”

“She’s not here.”

Silence stretched across the call. “Then where is she?”

“I don’t know,” he quietly told her, hating the admission.

Trevelyan’s voice was hard. “Find her.” 

“I will.” 

“Cullen—”

“I will find her,” Cullen insisted, “I have to. I can’t—” he broke off as the emotion made it’s way into his voice. After a deep breath, he continued, “I can’t live without her.”

The line went dead and Cullen sank to his knees, dropping the phone as he lifted his hands to his face. He didn’t know what else to do, so he prayed. Oh Maker, hear my cry.

Footsteps and hushed whispers surrounded him but Cullen didn’t know what else to do. For her to simply be gone was a nightmare made real. After all they’d been through, the Maker would give them this too?

He should get up… order the troops to do something—to do anything—to find her, but he couldn’t move. It was as though he’d been stricken to the spot.

“Commander?” Cassandra asked from behind him as someone kneeled in front of him. 

“Cullen, what is it?” Leliana’s melodic lilt was laced with concern.

He heard the murmurs as people spoke to each other around him. Heard the soldiers filling them in what they’d overheard. Heard Cassandra and Leliana organizing search parties. But where did they even start?

“We’ve received something!” Someone shouted from across the tent. Cullen dropped his hands to look, but Cassandra was already next to the person. She snatched the paper out of the printer and carried it over to Cullen.

With a grim face, she scanned the missive and told him, “She’s been kidnapped.”

“Where’d it come from?” she shouted back across the room. 

“Working on that.”

Something snapped inside Cullen. Kidnapped. She’d been kidnapped.

“Someone get me a connection to Skyhold!” he shouted to no one in particular as he pressed himself up to his feet. Now was time for action.

“At once!” a voice called.

“I need more details,” he said as he strode over to the soldiers working diligently at tracing the message.

“Commander,” Cassandra said as she stepped up next to him. “It’s the Red Templars. They want to exchange prisoners.”

“What does that mean?” he asked as he turned to face her. 

“They’ll return Ariana in exchange for Samson.”

The air wooshed out of his lungs. The bastards. They’d found him barely alive in the empty temple this morning, in the very room with smashed Eluvian. 

A satellite phone was held out toward him. “Inquisitor’s on the line.”

Cullen snatched it, bringing it to his ear. “Inquisitor.”

“Talk to me.”

“She was kidnapped by the retreating army. They want to exchange her for Samson.” 

“Do they now? That is quite the ask,” Trevelyan evenly responded. There was an odd note in her voice that had Cullen holding his breath. Whatever that was about, surely, surely she would agree to it. They had already dealt blow after blow to Corypheus, what was one setback here when it came to Ariana? 

He heard the breath Trevelyan let out. “I won’t accept it.”

For the second time that afternoon, time slowed to a crawl. _What?_ “But she’s your sister,” he gaped into the phone. His eyes darted wildly around as he looked for anything to ground him in normalcy. This couldn’t be real. None of this was really happening.

“I am aware. Understand there is more to my decision than you know.”

“Inquisitor, please—”

“Commander,” she interrupted, “I am asking you to trust me.”

“But—”

“Don’t say anything more. I will be there in the morning.” With that curt dismissal, the line went dead..

“No!” Cullen roared. He looked down at the phone tightly gripped in his hand and considered throwing it to the ground at his feet, but stopped as he remembered he was in the middle of a tent full of people. 

Bile rose at the back of his throat once more. “She won’t agree to the exchange.”

Josephine didn’t cover her surprise well. “Her own sister?” she gasped as her hands flew to her mouth.

“Everyone get out now,” Cassandra ordered. The tent was full of shuffling noises as Cullen watched the room empty. The war council was the only exception.

Someone appeared next to Cullen, a stack of papers in hand.

“Report,” he wearily told her as he lifted his hands to rub circles at his temple. He no longer knew what to think or feel or do. The Inquisitor had just refused an exchange for her sister. He didn’t even know her.

“Here’s what we have so far,” the scout he now recognized as Harding said. “Her last known location was here—” Harding pointed at a small square on the printout of a map—“And the communications came from somewhere in this area—” She pointed to an area with a large red circle around it—“And they want to make the exchange… here.”

The exchange location was marked by an x.

“I’ve scouts already searching the area, but without a way to narrow it down further, it’s not looking good.”

Cullen looked through the open flap of the tent to where several soldiers milled about, waiting to return to their work. “You there! Get Captain Karner.”

“Right away, ser,” one of them saluted.

“When is the exchange supposed to take place?” he asked Harding.

“Tomorrow morning.”

Karner ducked inside the tent.

“That means we have… eighteen hours to find her. Give or take,” Cullen told them. “Karner, work with Harding. Whatever she needs.”

Karner frowned at him. “Commander, we can’t just—”

“Expend every resource we have left if you have to!”

Karner pressed her lips together and took a breath, before saying, “With all due respect, Commander, that’s not a good idea.” 

“Do not question me!” He shouted at her, angry that she was second guessing him like this. They may be friends, but she did not get to take liberties because of that. He was still her commanding officer.

“Think about it,” Karner continued with a lowered voice, “It has to be an inside job.”

“She’s right,” Leliana added. “Getting into the camp would have been difficult enough, but getting back out with her…”

Cullen growled in frustration, slamming his fists down on the table in front of him. “We have to find her!”

The others all began talking over each other at once.

“We will—”

“I’m sure the Inquisitor—”

“Listen to me!” Josephine shouted over all the voices, “She’s pregnant!”

Her declaration was met with shocked silence. 

_Pregnant?_ It took longer than it should have for the words to form. “Maker’s breath,” Cullen exhaled. “How do you know that?”

“She only found out last week, she wanted to tell you, but…” Josephine trailed off with a worried look. Next to her, Harding and Leliana exchanged a look of their own.

“I’ll get started on finding out who they have inside,” Leliana finally said. Once the silence had broken, the others spoke over one another, and Cullen tried to wrangle this new information as they did.

“Scouts will be out within ten minutes.”

“Perhaps the arl and emperor would be willing to offer assistance?” 

“Whatever resources we have.” 

A ferocity surfaced within him as the truth sunk in. It was no longer just her he needed to protect, but their unborn child as well. He knew what he needed to do next, as loathe as he was to do it. “I’ll figure out how to deal with Samson.”


	43. Chapter 43

The whooshing of the helicopter blades interrupted the otherwise quiet of the early morning. Cullen emerged from the war tent to watch it arrive. Although the forest canopy was thick in this part of the Wilds, there was a spot near the river they’d advised the pilots to land.

He’d been woken before dawn by a soldier alerting him that the Inquisitor was on her way from Skyhold, and he’d alerted the others. He glanced back toward the war tent and Cassandra gave him an encouraging nod. They were ready to put their plan into action.

Trevelyan strode through the camp, her golden battlemage armor bright against the green of the forest around her. Cullen felt a pit in his stomach at what they were about to do, but it was necessary.

When she arrived at the war tent, Cullen allowed her to enter before following her. The open air tent wasn’t the most private of spaces, but it would have to do.

Trevelyan glanced between her advisors. “Have you found her?”

“We have not.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You should be aware that we will be making the exchange,” Cullen told her.

Her eyes snapped back open and she focused on him. The intensity of her gaze always made him uncomfortable, but he stared back. He would not back down. “Did I hear you correctly, Commander? You are going against a direct order?”

“You did,” he confirmed.

She tilted her head as she gazed back at him. “Perhaps I should have you removed for insubordination,” she mused.

“No.” Cassandra stepped in. “We agree with the commander on this.”

“All of you?” Trevelyan asked. Leliana and Josephine both nodded their assent. “What is this? My advisors have decided to commit mutiny?”

“No. We are refusing to follow an unlawful order,” Cullen said.

“Excuse me?”

“Section 4 of the Inquisition Regulation Code states we must ensure all relevant information, expertise, and resources are brought to bear to secure the safe recovery of any and all Inquisition agents held hostage,” Cassandra recited as she held up a copy of the relevant passage.

Trevelyan was quiet as she looked between them. She finally asked, “Would you do this if it weren’t Ariana?”

“There is precedence for this, Your Worship,” Josephine said, “You freed hostages taken by the Avvar.”

“So I did. Well, it seems I am outnumbered.” Cullen held his breath as he waited to see what would happen. Trevelyan continued, “Well done all of you.”

“Well… done?” Cassandra asked, confusion in her voice.

“Yes. I am rather grateful you all care so much as I had always intended to make the exchange.” 

“You had always— What do you mean?” Cullen asked. He was livid. All the anger, all the fury, all the pain he’d endured was for nothing? “How could you do that to us?”

“I couldn’t say that over the unsecured lines. We have a traitor in our midst.” She gave him a hard look as she turned toward the entrance of the tent. “Sera!”

The young woman immediately entered. “Whatsit?”

Trevelyan gestured toward the four in the room. 

Sera nodded and rolled out a map on the table in front of her. “Me and Princess Stabbity go here. Get the traitors outta the way, right?” She looked up at Cullen. “You take the Red General. Need to be close for the exchange. And you—” she looked over to Cassandra—“help him.”

“What about Trevelyan?” Cullen asked.

“I’ll be on my way to find a dragon.”

“You’ll be… what?”

Trevelyan gave him a tight smile. “The infiltrators are more likely to reveal themselves if I’m not there. Besides, I do need that dragon.”

“Do we want to know?”

She shrugged, “Maybe later. For now, focus on getting her back.”

“We plan to,” Cassandra spoke up from beside him. Trevelyan nodded and as quickly as she’d arrived at the camp, she was gone again. 

Several hours later, Cullen watched as soldiers transported Samson from the holding cell to the SUV that would be taking them to the meeting point. 

The stress of the preceding twenty-four hours had another headache coming on. Somehow Solas had managed to pull together an herbal tea with whatever leftover herbs were in stock to help him get through it. He couldn’t afford to lose his focus now, not when everything was riding on this exchange.

Once the prisoner had been situated in the backseat with soldiers on either side of him, Cullen climbed into the front and buckled in as the car began to pull away from the camp.

When they rolled through the outer checkpoint, he heard his former friend’s gravelly voice behind him, “The years have been good to you, Knight-Captain.”

“I’m no longer with the Order.”

“Hard to leave completely. At least, without your Inquisition giving you the fix.” He shook his head. “If you’d only joined me, we would be unstoppable.” Cullen stared straight ahead, not wanting to give the man the dignity of a response to that, but Samson didn’t get the hint as he continued, “I hear you’re recently engaged. Congratulations.”

The words felt like ice in his veins. “Who told you that?”

“Heard it in the camp. I can’t wait to see her again.”

Cullen turned to stare at the man. There was something about the way he’d said that… “What do you mean ‘again’?”

Samson only gave him a dark smile in response and lapsed into silence. 

As they drove, Cullen thought about the plan. Leliana and Sera should already be in place, they’d gone to set up immediately following that early morning meeting. Cassandra had left ahead of him to ensure the route was clear. All he had to do was hand off Samson and protect Ariana and their child growing inside of her. He could do it. He had to.

They pulled up to the meeting point. The other SUV was pulled off to the side, Cassandra and two soldiers standing outside of it. Cassandra nodded as they pulled up. 

The soldiers assisted in removing the other man from the backseat. Both Cullen and Cassandra joined for the walk to the middle of the clearing. 

There was a dark vehicle parked in the distance. After several long moments of standing in location, anxiously awaiting something to happen, when a door opened and a Red Templar stepped out. Cullen watched as the enemy soldier pulled Ariana out of the vehicle behind him. His heart sped up as he tried to get a good look at her. She looked all right from the distance. Her arms were tied in front of her, but she otherwise looked unhurt.

“Do you think it’s possible to get pregnant in the Fade?” Samson’s gravelly voice broke into his thoughts. 

Cullen’s mind blanked at hearing the question. There it was. It was too raw, too real to be a coincidence. Samson knew exactly what he was doing. Cullen ignored him, keeping his eyes on Ariana as two Red Templars led her toward them. They stopped several feet away.

“Hello, poppet,” Samson greeted her.

Ariana stared at him like she recognized him but couldn’t quite place how. Cullen watched the moment it all clicked into place. “Samson?”

Fury rose within him. Everything Samson had said, all the implications of it… Cullen grabbed the man by the front of his shirt. “I will not hesitate to kill you when I have the chance.”

“Commander!” Cassandra exclaimed. 

Cullen threw Samson down at the feet of the Red Templars in front of them. The two Inquisition soldiers with them unholstered their guns, but instead of aiming them at Samson, they turned on Cullen. They quickly fell as sniper bullets exploded in their heads. One of the Red Templars grabbed Ariana, pulling her back toward their waiting vehicle.

“Grab him!” Cullen shouted to Cassandra as he lifted his weapon. The Red Templar that had been assisting Samson fell to another sniper’s bullet. 

He didn’t see how she’d done it, but Ariana was running toward him, the Red Templar behind her giving chase. Cullen shoved Ariana behind him and pulled the trigger on the enemy soldier in front of him.

The dark vehicle in the distance revved it’s engine and started to move. He ignored it, knowing the others would be tracking it. Instead, he grabbed Ariana’s hand and dragged her back toward their own waiting SUVs. He hustled her into the back of the vehicle and climbed in behind her. The SUV sprung into action.

He faced her and wrapped his arm around her. “I am so sorry.” He pulled away, lifting her chin to check her face. “Did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” she told him as she lifted her still bound wrists. “But I could use some help.”  
“I need a knife,” he told the soldier in the passenger seat. 

The soldier held a knife over his shoulder. Cullen took it and quickly freed Ariana’s wrists. He put away the knife before he rubbed the red marks as he continued to study her face. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Cullen, I’m fine.”

“They didn’t hurt you? Either of you?” 

She froze. “Either… of us?”

“You or the…” Cullen glanced down at her midsection. She was still staring at him and it was starting to unsettle him.

“Did my sister tell you?” she asked with a frown. 

Cullen shook his head. “Josephine. I wish you had though.”

“I wanted to, but—” she broke off with a loud sigh as she looked out the window at the greenery flying past. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Ariana…” He wrapped her hands in his. “Look at me.”

She turned to face him. He wanted to kiss away the distressed look on her face. “I am so happy.”

She lifted her eyes to his and Cullen saw all the emotions he was feeling. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and wrapped an arm around her. Ariana laid her head on his shoulder as they rode the rest of the way to the camp in silence.

***

The water was cool against her skin. It was unexpected, even despite the coolness of the evening, since in all other ways, the Arbor Wilds were warm, even in Harvestmere. Ariana thought about Skyhold, already under snow, and here she was bathing naked in the pool of a waterfall.

She cherished the time she’d finally managed to wrest away for herself. Cullen had refused to leave her side, except for the all too brief debriefings with Leliana and Harding about the kidnapping.

The night she’d spent in the enemy camp, most of them had stayed well clear of her and spoke as little as possible to her directly. They’d set her up in a tent and left her to herself, though she’d heard them speak. ‘Child of chaos’ they’d called her. Though there’d been something about the way they said it, something akin to reverence, like the way the Chantry spoke of Andraste.

She’d told all of this to Leliana and Harding, even as the two questioned her relentlessly. Leliana wanted her to speak more with Lady Morrigan, but the woman was with her sister on the way back to Skyhold and Ariana had no desire to see the woman anytime soon.

As soon as she’d finished with the questioning, she'd coerced Cassandra and Sera into bringing her out to this waterfall for a bath and a moment of peace. She listened to the two women chatting, their low murmured voices comforting as she allowed her body to float in the churning water.

Whatever remnants were left of the sun filtered through the vibrant leaves of the canopy above her. There was something wild and unfettered about this wildness. Something that called to her very soul.

Ariana tipped her head back, letting the water hold her body and closed her eyes. Every time she did, the memories of that morning flashed through her mind: the movement, the bullets, the red... and then Cullen’s arms, like a promise.

“I am so sorry,” he’d said as he wrapped her in his arms, refusing to let her go. 

It hadn’t been his fault. There was nothing he could have done. Ariana didn’t even remember being taken. One moment she’d been in the camp and the next… she wasn’t. 

“Ariana?”

Her eyes snapped open at Cullen’s voice behind her. She dropped her feet to the bottom of the pool and turned around.

Cassandra was standing behind him, giving him a nasty glare. “I told him not to interrupt—”

“She’s my—”

“Alls good innit?” Sera asked, popping out from behind a branch. 

“It’s all right. Thank you.” 

Cassandra loudly sighed. “Very well. Sera and I will be—”

“Away. Very. Far. Away. Not gonna hear a thing that far.” Sera grabbed Cassandra’s arm and dragged her off into the underbrush.

Cullen ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, I should have—”

“Don’t. Please stop apologizing.”

“I can’t help it.” He squatted down next to the pool as he stared at her. In the lengthening shadow she couldn’t quite make out his face. “It’s eating me up.”

She sighed and made her way toward the edge. “Cullen, there’s nothing you could have done—”

“I should have been there,” he told her as he stood and paced several steps. “I should have been there!”

“Cullen you couldn’t have—”

“How do you know him?” he interrupted. Ariana looked up and could make out the blaze of his golden eyes in the remnants of the setting sun.

She held his gaze. “Kirkwall.”

Confusion spread across his face. “Kirkwall?” 

“The mage underground. He ran transport for us sometimes.”

He stared at her for several long moments before pulling his shirt over his head. His shoes and slacks followed and he slipped into the water next to her. “When was the last time you saw him?”

Ariana swam backwards toward the center of the pool. “I don’t know, when did you shut down the mage underground?”

“Not recently?” he asked as he followed. 

“I hardly recognized him. He’s not the Samson I knew.”

Cullen reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her toward him. Despite the coolness of the water, Ariana could feel the warmth of his body pressing into hers. “Do you swear it, Ariana?” 

She pressed her hands into his chest, pushing away as she looked up at him. He held his arm firm around her waist. “I swear it. What is this about?” 

Cullen let out a slow breath. “He… I had nightmares and then… It was like he knew—”

“What are you talking about?” 

“He—He made me think…” Cullen took a deep breath. “When you were in Sahrnia. I had dreams, nightmares, about you…”

Ariana frowned as he trailed off. “I don’t—”

“About you with him. And he… it was like he knew. He implied that he might be—”

Cullen broke off and looked away. Despite the fact that he held her to him and she could feel his heart beating under her hands, he refused to look at her. “That he might be what?”

He didn’t respond. Ariana watched his throat bob as he swallowed and continued to look anywhere but her face.

“That he might be what?” she insisted again.

Cullen’s lips were tightly pressed together when turned to face her. “The father.”

Ariana tried to shove away from him, but he held her fast. “How could you possibly—”

“I don’t—”

“For the love of—! Do you really?”

“No.” His voice was fiercely insistent. “I don’t.” 

She lifted a hand to cup his cheek. “Ask me whatever you want to know. I will not lie to you.”

He ran a hand up her back and she shivered, aware again of the coolness of the descending twilight and the coolness of the water. His fingers tangled in her hair at the base of her neck. 

“Have you before?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“When you said you’d never love me.”

“And when I told you what we had meant nothing.” 

“Anything else?”

“No.”

He lifted his eyes to hers. There was a look of wondrous amazement in them that she’d briefly glimpsed in the car. “So we’re going to be…”

“Yes.” She once against lifted her hand to his cheek. He leaned in before turning to kiss her palm.

One hand moved from her hip to her belly. “Maker’s breath.” 

Ariana held her breath as he gazed at her. Since she’d discovered she was pregnant, everything that had been happening to her began to make sense, though she still didn’t know how she felt. She was happy, she was, but she’d wanted more time with Cullen before they started a family. 

Cullen’s eyebrows came together. “Are you all right?” She nodded as she swallowed. “Truly?” he asked again.

“I am, it’s only…” she sighed, “We haven’t talked about it.” 

“Ariana.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and held her against him. Cool water flowed around them and the last birdsong of dusk rose up around them. If they could only stay here in this moment, not return to the reality of the world that was threatening to tear itself apart, all would be well. Cullen lifted his hand to her cheek and evenly met her gaze. “I will say this again and again until you believe it. No matter what comes, I am yours.”

“Do you even want children?”

“With you? Yes.” 

“What if they have magic? What then?” 

“We don’t have to solve every problem tonight,” he said as he moved them back toward the shore. “Though Leliana does have more questions for you before dinner.”

“Let’s see what she wants then.” She made a move to slip out of the pool, but Cullen held her firm.

With one more kiss, he told her, “We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

***

The first light of morning was breaking through the cool, grey air as Evelyn stepped out onto her balcony. The high of having defeated Corypheus followed by the crushing blow of Solas abandoning her… it had been too much.

_It was not supposed to happen this way._

Memories surrounded here. There had been sheer relief at having rid the world of the blighted magister, once and for all, but then there’d been Solas, kneeling over the broken orb, the sadness has been disproportionate to the joy she felt, though she’d hardly noticed.

_No matter what comes…_

That phrase, that infuriating phrase. She set her jaw, looking out at the Frostback Mountains, the morning light bathing their peaks in a pale golden light. The dawn that Mother Giselle had once sung of had indeed come to them, here, at Skyhold. The fortress to which Solas had led them. 

_I want you to know what we had was real._

Was real. As if he were already gone. It was only later that she’d realized he’d spoken in the past tense. The words echoed deep in the empty pit of her stomach, bouncing and churning, gripping her heart. At first, she dared not believe it. But when she arrived at Skyhold and entered the rotunda—his rotunda—and saw the hastily drawn, unfinished drawing thrown onto the last panel, she knew he was gone. She hadn’t needed Leliana to confirm it, but hearing it said out loud made it feel more real somehow.

And just when she thought she couldn’t bear it, the weight of the loss crushing so hard upon her chest, Josie had burst into the room and dragged her to the party.

A celebration for their victory.

Her victory.

When she’d entered the great hall, there was Varric, his story drawing laughter and cheers from the crowd, spinning an astonishing tale of the defeat in the clouds. Of how Evelyn had opened the rift and sealed Corypheus within it. There was Cullen with his hand resting protectively on the small of Ariana’s back; Josephine, as radiant as ever as she charmed her way through the crowd; and Leliana, at home in the shadows, watching and waiting. There was Bull’s hand resting casually on Dorian’s leg and subtle glances between them that said so much; Sera, peeking out from beneath a table, a prank surely in the works; and Rainier, stoic as always as he kept an eye on the crowd around it. There was Cassandra smiling, Vivienne watching, and Cole listening. But it was there, in the warmth of the Great Hall, surrounded by her friends, she felt a coldness settle over her, wrap itself around her heart, steel her spine and pull her head up high.

Now this morning, standing here on the balcony of her keep, looking over the world that she’d saved, she felt the ice hardening the calm waters inside of her, numbing the pain that threatened to tear her apart. She was the bloodied Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, the mage who’d saved them all. If the man who aspired to godhood could not raze her, then what right did any other man have to bring her to her knees.

None. And Evelyn would make sure he knew.


	44. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This epilogue is a collection of scenes from post-defeat of Corypheus. Though I may some day revisit the big plans I originally had for them, for now I hope you enjoy these snippets of Ariana and Cullen's happy ending.

The path through the forest was thick with overgrowth and at times Cullen couldn’t even see where it went next, but Ariana knew the path by heart. When she led him through a thicket, he was surprised that it emerged into a clearing. A sacredness hovered within the quiet stillness of the place. 

She turned to face him, her face glowing from the exertion. Cullen was awed by how beautiful she looked in the sunlight of mid spring. One hand still held the skirt of her blue dress off the ground while her other hand rested against her belly. She was due to give birth any day now, and as much as Cullen protested, she’d insisted on bringing him here.

She had his whole heart.

He stepped forward and ran his fingers along the bare skin of her neck and shoulders. Watching the way her eyes fluttered closed in response.

“Old Shea will be here at any moment,” she told him, her breath heavy as she tried to catch it.

“I know.” He ran his palm up her neck to rest against her cheek. “Though I can hardly believe it.”

She leaned into his touch. “How did I get so lucky?”

He smiled as he dipped his head to kiss her and his other hand made its way to rest over the one on her belly. Right here, in this forest clearing in the Free Marches, was everything he wanted. Everything he’d never thought possible until she’d walked into his life and taught him the meaning of hope.

Cullen heard the sound of someone crashing through the forest and one of the elderly servants he’d met that afternoon at the main house emerged. 

“Well here we are,” the man told them with a smile. The man stepped forward to give Ariana a large hug before clasping Cullen’s hand with a firm shake. “Are we ready then?”

Cullen looked at Ariana and she nodded. 

“Do you have it?” he asked. Ariana held out a braided rope made of ribbons. Cullen’s eyes caught on the neutral colors intertwined with greens. There was something about the ribbons that looked familiar. It didn’t take long for him to make the connection with the ribbons he’d spent so much time picking out that afternoon in Halamshiral more than a year prior. Before everything that had happened. She’d kept them through it all.

“Do you like it?” Ariana quietly asked him.

“It’s perfect.”

“Now,” Shea said as he turned back to them. “This ceremony is to join the lives of Ariana Kalista Freyja Trevelyan of Southwatch and Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath in the eyes of our ancestors.

“Ariana and Cullen, this cord is a symbol of the lives you have chosen to lead together. Up until this moment, you have been separate in thought, word and action. As your hands are bound together by this cord, so too, shall your lives be bound as one. If you would, please turn to face each other, and join your right hands.”

Cullen took Ariana’s hand in his own and held her gaze as they both repeated after him. “You cannot possess me for I belong to myself. But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give. You cannot command me for I am a free person. But I shall serve you in those ways you require and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand.”

He squeezed her hand, delighting in the way her lips turned up at the edges. “I pledge to you that yours will be the name I cry aloud in the night, and the eyes into which I smile in the morning. I pledge to you the first bite from my meat and the first drink from my cup. I pledge to you my living and my dying, each equally in your care. I shall be a shield for your back, and you for mine. I shall not slander you, nor you me. I shall honor you above all others, and when we quarrel, we shall do so in private and tell no strangers our grievances.

Their voices intermingled as they said the final words together, “This is my vow to you. This is the marriage of equals.”

Shea smiled at them and stepped forward to wrap the braided cord around their clasped hands. “With this cord, I bind Ariana and Cullen to the vows they make to each other.”

He tied a knot underneath their hands and wrapped his hands around their bound ones. “This cord is a symbol of the lives you have chosen to lead together. It has been woven to symbolize the intertwining of your lives. It is strong enough to hold you together during times of struggle yet flexible enough to allow for individuality and personal growth. Up until this moment you have been separated in thought, word, and action. As this cord binds your hands together, so your lives become intertwined. May you enjoy a lifetime of love and peace, happiness, and prosperity.”

Shea stepped back and gave them both a wide, toothy smile. “Congratulations.” 

Ariana released his hand and took hold of the knotted cord, wrapping it around her wrist like a bracelet, before taking his hand once more and intertwining their fingers.

Cullen wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her into a hug. There it was. Their large chantry wedding may still be several months away, but now he was hers, as she was his, even if it was only her old gods that knew it.

“Well, Mr. Trevelyan, shall we return home?” 

He chuckled, “That we shall, Mrs. Trevelyan.” 

“Andraste,” she groaned, “Can we agree never to call each other those names again?”

He laughed out loud at the look on her face. “Of course. Come on.” He pulled her after Shea back towards the house.

***

The bright sterility of the lights were pushing him toward another migraine as he paced the long hallway of the hospital wing. The frequency of the headaches had gone down in the past years, but every once a while, it would happen at the most inopportune time.

Like now.

He fumbled in his pocket, but he’d long ago stopped carrying Adan’s medicinal chews with him at all times. Even though he was in a hospital, it didn’t feel right asking the doctors for medication. Not when they had other people to focus on, others to worry about.

Iridescent floaters danced at the edges of his vision as he made his way back to the waiting room. When he entered, a hush fell over the room. Everyone looked at him expectantly.

“Well?” Dorian said, “Don’t keep up all in suspense.”

“Oh, um, there’s no news yet.”

“None? It’s been hours!” Cassandra said, setting down the tablet she’d been engrossed in moments before.

“I—Yes. I know. Inquisitor, may I speak with you?”

Her white eyebrows lifted. “Of course.”

Cullen gestured back toward the hallway he’d been pacing. As soon as they were out of earshot of the others, she asked, “Is there something the matter?” 

“What? No. I—” Cullen broke off as a pulse of pain shot through his head, from front to back like a knife. “I have a headache and… and I don’t have anything for it.”

Her eyes bore into him as she tilted her head a fraction. It was a look he’d seen from Ariana countless times. “I’m sure there’s an apothecary somewhere nearby. I could have Varric—” 

He shook his head. “Any other day, I would but… not today. Could you… Would you… Help me?”

Her head snapped back in her surprise. “Is that truly what you want?”

“I can’t focus.” He closed his eyes as another wave of pain washed through him. “And today… I need to. I need to be here.”

“Very well.” At the softly spoken words, he felt the gentle prod of her magic. He had very little remnants of lyrium, if any, left in his body, but the urge to fight back fiercely rose within him.

“Don’t fight it.”

“I—” he started, but her magic overwhelmed his defenses and he felt it wash through him, sucking the pain out of him. It was soothing, like a cool evening breeze on a too warm summer day.

He’d never felt anything like it.

It was over almost as quickly as it started, but when Cullen opened his eyes, the fog had been lifted. He let out a breath of relief. “Thank you, Inquisitor.”

Her lips twisted in slight humor. “I hardly think such formality is necessary anymore.”

“Very well… Thank you, Evelyn.”

She gave his arm a gentle pat. Behind him, a voice called, “Mr. Rutherford?”

“Yes?” Cullen spun to face the woman. She was young, seemingly too young to have both a medical degree and an established practice, but Ariana insisted this was the one she wanted as her doctor. 

The doctor gave him a warm smile. “Congratulations. She would like to see you now.”

As he entered the room, his heart flipped at the sight of her on the bed. When she smiled at him, the edges of her eyes crinkling in joy, he knew then that had never seen a more beautiful sight.

Cullen hesitantly approached the bed, staring in wonder at the small human she cradled in her arms. He had a head of black hair, just like his mother.

He leaned down and smoothed back the sweat-dampened hair before kissing Ariana’s forehead. His other hand reached forward to tentatively touch the child. Cullen’s hand looked enormous next to the tiny human.

His son.

He stared at him in wonder. At the miracle of what had taken place.

“Do you want to hold him?” Ariana tilted her head up to smile at him and Cullen bent down to kiss her again.

“May I?”

He settled on the bed next to her, suddenly nervous at the thought. He’d held plenty of children in his life, but this one was so tiny and so new… What if he did something wrong?

Ariana eased the newborn into his arms before leaning back against the pillows in exhaustion.

“Hello, little one,” he murmured to the bundle in his arms. The baby’s nose crinkled in response. That little crinkle, the way the boy’s face scrunched in reaction, had a fierce protectiveness overwhelming him. He would do anything for this child of his and for the woman he loved. He reached a hand out for Ariana’s, though she was already fast asleep.

_His_ family.

***

“Tell her to find me an acre of land.”

Before she even opened her eyes, she heard the singing. 

“Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.”

It was deep and low, soothing and comforting, floating through the open door of the balcony like the soft summer breeze.

“Between wild water and silvery sand.”

When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could just make out the shape of his body as he swayed under the night sky in the warmth of the summer night. The rolling green hills beyond were utterly silent, waiting for the first light of day to wake the world from its slumber. 

“Then she shall be a true love of mine,” he sang as she slipped out of bed and padded over to the open doors, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his back.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he told her as he turned to face her, making space between them for the tiny bundle in his arms.

“It’s all right.” She laid her head on Cullen’s shoulder and reached a hand toward their son, feeling the soft satin of his skin underneath her fingertips. He scrunched up his face and they both froze, watching to see what happened next, but with a soft sigh, the infant relaxed back into sleep.

Cullen lifted his eyes to hers as he whispered, “Close one. I only just got him back to sleep.”

She smiled, heart overflowing as she stood with her little family under the stars. She never thought she could find such happiness. Here in this moment it was easy to forget everything that was still out there, waiting for them.

Orlais and Ferelden were still at each other’s throats. Her sister was still closing rifts around Thedas. And they were due back at Skyhold soon, a fact Josephine refused to let them forget.

But those were problems for tomorrow. For now, she was here.

***

“Stop pacing.” Leliana was leaning against the Inquisitor’s desk as Cullen paced back and forth across the room.

“I can’t,” he said as he changed direction yet again. 

“Commander.” Rylen held out a glass of amber liquid. “Have a drink. It might help.”

Cullen grabbed the glass and downed the whiskey. Rylen lifted his eyebrows, but grabbed the glass to get him another drink. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. Yes, he was getting married, but… they’d already committed to each other.

Though what if she didn’t want to be _married_ married? The old insecurities surfaced. What if he wasn’t enough for her? What if she didn’t want him despite everything they’d been through? What if she didn’t show? What if she left him at the altar?

“I’m cutting you off after this one,” Rylen told him as he held out the glass. “You can’t show up drunk to your own wedding.”

Cullen took the glass with an unsteady hand, this time sipping the whiskey more slowly.

“What if she doesn’t…” He trailed off, unsure of how to ask the question burning inside him.

“She wouldn’t have let it go this far.” Rylen’s hand was on his shoulder. “She’ll be there.”

Cullen gave him a tight smile as he took another sip, the alcohol finally working to calm his nerves. 

Leliana’s phone buzzed and Cullen spun around to face her, almost dropping the glass in his haste. He stared at Leliana as she read the message. 

She smiled and looked up at him. “It’s time.”

Cullen scrambled to pull on his jacket and straighten his tie. Leliana gave him a once over to make sure everything was where it should be, before she ushered the two men out to the great hall.

It was magnificent. The entire room had been decorated as though it were for royalty. As Cullen approached his place at the front, he realized the Inquisitor’s throne had been removed. Instead, Cassandra was standing there, ready to preside over the wedding.

He’d not gotten used to seeing her in the Divine’s robes. He didn’t know if he ever would. And he didn’t know if he could ever call her Divine Victoria. It seemed… wrong. But to have her there smiling at him was all the encouragement he needed. He was doing this. He was marrying Ariana. In the Chantry. In front of everyone.

A hush fell over the crowd as a soft music started, drifting down from the balcony over them. The side door to the courtyard opened and someone entered. Cullen watched Dorian enter the hall, turning the corner before strutting up the center aisle.

When he got to the front, he winked at Cullen before taking his place on the other side. They all turned their attention back to the door. Next, Trevelyan entered, her pace slower and steadier than Dorian’s had been as she made her way up the center aisle. She too smiled at Cullen before taking her place next to Dorian.

The crowd rose to their feet and after what felt like an eternity, he could make out a white poof on a head of black hair. Ariana. It was happening.

When she turned the corner and he got a look at her for the first time, he felt like he had the very first time he’d seen her at Haven. When she had taken his breath away. The room around them faded into silence as he watched her process toward him.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever see. She always had been. She always would be. But more than that beauty, he loved her. Somedays he felt as though he loved her more than he loved himself and to finally, finally be able to show the world that love was indescribable.

When she reached the front, he itched to take her in his arms, but he couldn’t. Not yet.

Ariana turned to face the man at her side. Sebastian. Cullen hadn’t even noticed him, he’d been so focused on the woman he loved. Sebastian lifted Ariana’s veil away from her face before giving her a kiss on each cheek. He nodded at Cullen as Ariana left his side to approach him.

Cullen reached for her hand and she intertwined her fingers in his, giving him a squeeze. They gazed at one another as Cassandra began to speak. “It is always a special day to celebrate the union of a couple very much in love…”

***

He signed the document with a flourish and handed the pen over the Chantry official witnessing their union. When he did, fingertips smudged in ink caught his eye. 

Of course.

The nobility kept up the tradition of signing the ornate document, even though the rest of Thedas simply signed and filed the form paperwork now required. Though with that signature, the rules of the nobility applied to him now, too.

Josephine beamed at him as she nonchalantly slid the document off the table and fanned it back and forth to encourage the ink to dry. 

With a soft sigh, Cullen turned around to face the crowd, stealing a glance at the woman standing next to him. A smirk played at the edges of her mouth as she nudged him with her elbow, flipping over her palm to reveal her own ink-stained fingers.

Maker, how he loved this woman. _His wife_.

She intertwined their fingers and he felt the unfamiliar hardness of the ring he’d placed on her finger mere moments before.

“What the Maker has joined, none can put asunder.” Cassandra lifted her hands and her voice to the crowd spilling out of the great hall. “I present to you for the first time, Bann and Lord Trevelyan!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Celtic Handfasting vows borrowed from _Finn Mac Cool_ by Morgan Llywelyn.

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to every one of you who travelled along on Ariana and Cullen’s journey with me! It’s been nearly two years since I started this project, and more than 10 months since I began posting it, so it coming to an end has truly been a bittersweet experience.
> 
> I know I’m not the chattiest author, but I am genuinely thankful for every single one of you who has left comments, kudos, and read. I hope you’ve all enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Thank you all again. 
> 
> \- tejas


End file.
